


"Determination"

by Xenobia



Series: Wyndrah [3]
Category: Wyndrah - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Graphic Violence, Het, M/M, Mpreg, Sexual Content, Yaoi, original - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-04 22:47:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 87,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1796005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenobia/pseuds/Xenobia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tsabrak returns to Tariff in the hopes that he can help Lythallendar.  He learns that the Lifebearer has taken up piracy and is possibly mentally unstable.  Refusing to leave his old friend in harms way, the Lashran pirate sets out to find Lythallendar.  Action/adventure, romance, fantasy setting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Determination”

Part 1

_Copyright © C.R. Bostic, 2004, 2013_

~* Author’s Note: This story chronologically follows my original story, “Fate”.

~xox~

Tsabrak approached the Darshaw manor warily; memories rushing back to him with every footstep. His shiny silver hair fell forward as he looked down and watched his own booted feet trod up the cobblestone path leading to the font door. Slowly lifting his eyes, he scanned the house with large, slit-pupiled golden eyes. It seemed even bigger than he remembered, and it had been repainted. Dark earth tones lent the manor a somber, natural look. What if Lythallendar was already home? Would he be the one to answer the door?

Tsabrak stopped at the door with his hand reaching out to press the button that had replaced the pull rope for the bell. The hand trembled. He hadn’t laid eyes on the younger lashran since Lythas had given birth to his first child. How much might he have changed? Morgan said he hadn’t been the same since the death of Coren. Would he even be able to recognize him?

“Oh, just _stop_ it,” he snapped to himself. He reached again for the doorbell, and he stopped when he noticed a small slip of paper tacked above it. Frowning, Tsabrak tilted his head and read it.

_“Do not ring doorbell!”_

Baffled, the lashran pirate stepped back and tapped his foot, resting his chin in his elegant hand. Well, Morgan _did_ say that Lythas was a bit unstable now…perhaps he had meant to write “Do not disturb”, and simply forgotten how to phrase it? Lythas had never picked up on the way humans spoke as easily as Tsabrak did. The sire shrugged. He was simply going to have to disturb the lad…he had to see him again. How silly, that Lythas would leave a note requesting that people not ring his doorbell, but fail to mention knocking. Feeling mischievous and nervous, Tsabrak knocked heavily on the oaken door with one hand while pushing the doorbell with the other.

The wide cat’s grin that was on his handsome face faded and became a round “O” of alarm as he heard something click above his head.

“Shit,” Tsabrak muttered, leaping backwards fluidly. While the move was graceful itself, the finish was not as dignified. He misjudged how close the steps were and fell to the ground as he tripped. On his back now, he stared up at the porch to see what he had narrowly escaped. How wide those amber eyes became when he saw a razor sharp, executioner-size axe swing down from a slit in the ceiling of the porch. The massive weapon swished back and forth across the doorway like a pendulum, right where Tsabrak had been standing a moment ago.

“Alright…I see,” he gasped shakenly, “Lythas is unstable…I should have listened more carefully!”

He could hear footsteps running inside of the house, growing louder as they neared the doorway. He tensed up and froze as the door opened wide. He couldn’t hide his disappointment when he saw a young, golden-haired sire staring down at him with alarmed green eyes, instead of Lythallendar. Tsabrak’s brow furrowed as he regarded the lad. Except that he was obviously a seed producing lashran, the young man was almost the spitting image of Coren Darshaw-a clean shaven, smooth faced version, that was. The eye color, however, was most certainly inherited from Lythallendar. They were the exact emerald green color that the lifebearer’s were.

“Are you all right, sir?” said the young man in worried tones. He reached inside of the threshold and pulled something, and Tsabrak watched in amazement as the axe stopped its momentum and slowly retracted back into the ceiling. “I’m terribly sorry about that. I put a note over the doorbell to warn people not to touch it.”

The lad rushed out to him and offered a hand to him. Once he drew close enough to see Tsabrak’s features, he gasped. “You…you are Lashran!” he said.

Tsabrak grimaced and picked himself up, noticing that the lad no longer offered his hand to help him. He looked frightened, in fact. “Aye, that I am. Tell me, do you often try to slice your callers in two?”

“What are you doing here?” the young man asked, ignoring the facetious question. His green eyes were narrowed in suspicion.

Tsabrak understood then. Charlotte had probably warned the lad about the dangers of the lashran discovering his and his sister’s origins. There was little doubt over the young sire’s identity, now.

“You must be Lyre,” Tsabrak said with a gentle smile, trying to appear unthreatening, “I am an old friend of your Father and Sire’s. You may have heard of me…my name is Tsabrak.”

Lyre relaxed immediately and gave a great sigh of relief. “I have indeed heard of you, sir. Please, come inside…there is much you need to know!”

He took Tsabrak’s hand innocently and began to pull him towards the house. Tsabrak looked at the porch and suddenly dug his heals in, stopping the lad in his tracks. “Wait…I am not going to be assaulted by more gadgets in there, am I?” the pirate questioned a tad warily.

Lyre blushed, much like his father used to. Tsabrak felt an ache in his heart. The young sire might look like Coren, but he took after Lythas in personality. “I beg your pardon for that, sir…my father put that there before he sailed out again, though I told him I would be fine. He is…a bit eccentric, these days.”

Tsabrak frowned and allowed Lyre to lead him into the house. Was Lythallendar paranoid, now? How long ago did he set sail? Had Tsabrak missed him? All these questions and more burned in the Sire’s mind as Lyre led him into the lounge and offered a seat to him.

~xox~

“Please lad, tell me what’s going on,” Tsabrak said as Lyre poured him a glass of wine, then did the same for himself and sat on the chair across from him.

“There isn’t much to tell, really. As you probably know, Sire passed away over four years ago. I have been trying to reach you, without letting Father know. I’m worried about him, sir. He has become unpredictable since my sire died. He’s become slightly paranoid, and I believe he’s taken up pirating to escape Tariff.”

Tsabrak sipped his wine and shook his head. “Why? What does he fear, here in Tariff?”

Lyre ran his fingers through his pale golden hair and pressed his lips together momentarily. “Well, I’m sure that I don’t need to tell you how attractive people find my father. Some of the rougher types around here don’t like to take ‘no’ for an answer. The ladies generally don’t give him too much trouble, but some of the men…” he trailed off and looked at Tsabrak meaningfully, hoping he would catch on.

Tsabrak pinched his lips on a grin. So, Lythas was running from randy admirers? He should have known. Once Coren was out of the picture, the lad was fair game, as far as most of the people around Tariff were concerned. “I fail to see that as a reason to booby trap the doorbell with a killing device,” Tsabrak commented.

Lyre winced. “It isn’t merely the unwanted attention that gave him the idea to make the security devices he did, sir. My father…well, he doesn’t trust anyone. He thinks that everyone in Tariff, or perhaps even the world, has ill intentions. Also…he finds it…amusing.”

Tsabrak’s pale, elegant eyebrows shot up into his hair. “Amusing? What does he find amusing?”

Lyre lowered his eyes. “He finds it amusing that the next caller who troubles him unduly could end up gutted on the porch. He even named the axe that you narrowly dodged, sir. He calls it ‘Jack’.”

Tsabrak again was caught between laughter and horror. He named that monstrous axe after the burly pirate that traveled with both Tsabrak and Coren for years? Well, now that he thought of it, the axe did rather remind him of the big man. It was his weapon of choice, after all. All this sounded like Lythas, but it also sounded like a dangerous, mad stranger as well.

“When do you expect him home, Lyre?” he questioned gently, leaning forward and pinning the lad with serious eyes. “I’ve come to help him. I may be able to heal him, if he is suffering from depression or mild insanity.”

 

He regretted saying that when Lyre suddenly bowed his head and began to cry. Reaching out, Tsabrak squeezed the lad’s arm and whispered, “There, there youngling…I did not mean that your father is crazy. He has suffered the trauma of losing his lifemate, and sometimes, a lashran can go temporarily mad from grief. I think perhaps that might be what has happened to him.”

“But, it’s been four years…that doesn’t seem temporary to me,” the younger sire said with soft despair.

Tsabrak chuckled. “You’re thinking in human terms, lad. I suppose that’s normal, being as you were raised among them. Four years is not long at all to we lashran. I promise you, if this were a permanent condition, it would have manifested itself years ago. Lythallendar needs healing…do you understand?”

Lyre nodded silently, but his frown did not lessen. “He and Aurora left just yesterday. Had you arrived then, you could be speaking to him, instead of getting second-hand information from me.”

Tsabrak groaned and messaged his temples. He needed to retire…that was all there was to it. “Do you know where they are going?” he asked with infinite patience.

“Yes…they’re heading to Driscal to intercept a cruise ship,” he flushed guiltily, as if he were the one planning to rob all of the passengers, and not his father.

Tsabrak fought the urge to giggle. Perhaps he was going mad himself. Was it contagious? It was just so unbelievable! He tried to picture the sweet lifebearer holding someone at the end of a musket barrel and demanding they surrender their belongings. The image was so ludicrous that he _did_ laugh, and Lyre stared at him in hurt puzzlement.

“Sir, this really isn’t funny!” he said.

Tsabrak cleared his throat and shook his head. “I’m sorry, lad…it’s just that I knew your father when he was just a frightened lad, little older than yourself. It is very difficult for me to picture him doing these things. The situation certainly isn’t funny, but for me, picturing innocent, gentle Lythas robbing another person is.”

Lyre smiled a bit, understanding what the older sire meant. “It _is_ rather out of character, isn’t it? They call Father the ‘Gentle Pirate’, because he only takes from those who could clearly spare it, and he always sends the ships on their merry way afterwards and thanks them for cooperating.” Lyre began to chuckle, himself. He sobered after a moment and regarded Tsabrak hopefully.

“Sir, may I go with you on your search? I’m very worried about my father and sister. He’s been speaking more and more often of taking us to visit Nandar. I understand why this is not a good idea.”

Tsabrak sobered immediately. “Yes, doing so puts your entire family unit at risk…especially your sister. _You_ could pass for a sire born and raised in Nandar…by looks, anyways. Lythas and Aurora, however…”

He trailed off, disturbed. He could be wrong…the Nandarians might simply turn them away, or embrace them with unbridled curiosity. He would rather not take the risk, however.

“Very well. Pack your things, lad. We’ll be leaving within the hour.”

~xox~

They traveled towards Driscal, keeping a sharp eye out for Lythas’ ship. Lyre described it as a rather small vessel, built for speed rather than battle. Lythallendar apparently was a small-time pirate; he only attacked cargo ships and cruise ships. For that, Tsabrak was thankful…he would have collapsed with worry if he thought Lythas went after bigger, riskier prey. Lyre gave the older sire a look that brought his concern back full force.

“My father doesn’t need large weapons…he has designed an arsenal that is lighter and fits into a smaller space. The only reason he hasn’t gone after ‘bigger fish’, as you put it, is because he’s practicing. Testing his weapons before engaging more dangerous ships.”

Tsabrak sighed and told the lad to come with him to the top of the crow’s nest. They would have a much better chance of identifying Lythallendar’s ship from a distance if his son was searching. “So tell me,” the pirate said once they were comfortably atop the crow’s nest, “were your parents happy together during the time they had?”

Lyre nodded and rested his elbows on the railing as he looked out to sea. “Aye, very happy. They rarely fought, and when they did, it was over small things and they quickly made up. It was a bit hard for me to understand when I was young, why the other children had a woman and a man for parents, while we had two men. As I grew older, I learned about the Lashran. Father was very careful to explain everything to Aurora and I. The only regret that I have is that we weren’t allowed to speak of it to our friends, though I see why.”

Tsabrak smiled. “It sounds as though Lythas and Coren saw to it that you were both well educated.”

“Yes. They put us in school at first, but some of the other children decided I would make good sport…because of my eyes and ears. They were mostly older, bigger children…bullies, you know. My sister caught them picking on me one day, and it got a bit ugly. I stupidly told them to sod off, instead of keeping quiet. As you probably know, this pissed them off,”

He smiled sheepishly at Tsabrak, and the pirate chuckled, “Anyways, my sister came around the corner and saw them yanking on my ears and hitting me. Aurora is like our sire…she’s not a person to be trifled with. She came at them like a little demon, launching all these kicks that I thought would surely split her breeches down the middle. By the time she was finished, all four of the bullies were lying unconscious…some of them without a few of their teeth.”

Tsabrak pinched his lips with his fingers as he pictured a female version of Lythas causing all of this carnage. “W-what did the headmaster of the school have to say about this?” the pirate questioned, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice.

Lyre frowned. “That’s the funny thing…he expelled us, though fights like that broke out all the time. He claimed that since Tariff was slowly becoming a respectable city, he wanted to keep troublemakers out of the school and teach children proper values. I think he was simply put off by us, and wanted an excuse to get us out of his school. Sire and father had us home tutored after that.”

Tsabrak shook his head. People, be they human or lashran, could sometimes be so narrow minded and paranoid. “So, how did you explain to your friends the relationship between yourselves and your parents?” he wanted to know.

Lyre smirked. “Adopted.”

Tsabrak stared at the lad with lowered brows. “No offence, Lyre, but what sort of idiot would believe that you and Aurora are adopted? You look so much like your sire that it’s nigh like having him standing next to me in lashran form, and though I only met Aurora once, she looked just like Lythas when she came out.”

The younger man chuckled and replied, “the kind of idiot that thinks Aurora came from Lythas’ brother across the ocean, and I came from Coren’s sister in Rainwood. Both died in unexpected accidents, to those who ask, and Coren and Lythas took us, their orphaned children, in.” he sighed and added, “I think it is because I remind him so much of Sire that Father wants me to stay home and run the business. I see pain in his eyes when he looks at me, sometimes.”

“Oooh, I see,” said Tsabrak with a nod. Trust Coren to come up with a story like that. The latter part made him feel pity for the overburdened young sire. He laid a paternal hand on Lyre’s shoulder to comfort him.

“Give Lythas some time. I’m sure his grief is very deep. It isn’t because he doesn’t love you that he avoids you.” When the lad nodded thoughtfully, Tsab asked another question. “What about Morgan and Nicolas…are the two of you friendly with Charlotte’s lads?”

Lyre nodded. “Oh yes…we’re all good friends. Nicolas has become quite a fighter, but an honorable one. He isn’t shady, like his Uncle Pete. As you know, Morgan is a full-fledged Bargel sorcerer now. Jahlad says he’s got more talent than any other human magician he’s met.”

Lyre smiled. “I feel a bit sorry for Morgan, though. He’s got an enormous crush on my sister, and she merely teases him. She doesn’t want to go through what Father went through with our sire, you see. I think she’s just as anxious as Father to go to Nandar. She has a mind to meet one of ‘our kind’ as she says.”

Tsabrak frowned, not liking this. “What of you?” he asked cautiously.

Lyre shrugged. “I’ve no immediate love interests, but I’m curious about humans. Seeing how happy my Father and Sire were together, I don’t think it would be such a bad thing to marry a human…though I know it is hard on a lashran to do so.”

Tsabrak ruffled the lad’s hair fondly, finding that he liked him already. “You are much like your father, Lyre.” the younger sire smiled at the compliment and nodded in agreement.

~xox~

“There it is…the Swordfish is straight ahead!” cried Lyre exuberantly, waking Tsabrak from his mild doze.

Tsabrak snapped to attention and peered into the night where the lad pointed. “Nicely built little ship,” he commented as he admired the small, sleek vessel. Something was odd about it, however…there were no visible sails at all. His confusion must have shown on his face, for Lyre chuckled.

“It runs on steam power, sir.”

Tsabrak lifted his eyebrows. “Your father built a steam engine?” It was a very new invention, steam power. The lashran pirate did not trust it enough to use it, yet.

“No sir…he hired a mechanic to do it. It’s quite fast, actually,” the younger man squinted and added; “They are docking at Driscal. Will we disembark there as well?”

Tsabrak nodded absently, then shook himself out of his childish daydreams about Lythallendar and quickly ascended the ladder of the crow’s nest to shout orders to his men. By the time the Black Cat docked at Driscal, Lythas’ crew would already have unloaded and gone into the city. Tsabrak felt giddy and nervous at the thought of seeing him again, though he had misgivings, due to all that he had heard. He didn’t have time to contemplate further, because the Swordfish suddenly changed course.

“What in the-“ the pirate said as the smaller vessel turned in the water and began to head straight for the Black Cat.

In the crow’s nest, Lyre saw it too, and he knew what it meant. “Oh, no…Father… _no_!” The young Sire screamed wildly down to Tsabrak and his men. “Raise a white flag… _quickly_! He thinks we’re a threat, and he means to fire on us!”

Tsabrak was fortunately able to make out the shout, and he swore. If his ship was still as black as its namesake, Lythallendar might have recognized it and would not be now moving to insanely attack it. As it was, the pirate had to repaint the vessel, due to an increased reputation on the seas and the need for concealment. He bellowed to his men to raise the white flag and paced nervously. “Get down from there, Lyre!” he hollered up at the lad. The last thing he wanted was for the boy to get blown away by accident by his own father.

Once Lyre was safely down from the crow’s nest, Tsabrak ordered him to get below. “Lythas has no idea you’re on this ship, and he might fire upon us even after we’ve raised the flag, Lyre,” he explained quickly, “I want you safely out of the way.”

He stopped and stared in amazement as the smaller ship fired five shots in rapid succession, which landed in warning mere yards from the Black Cat’s starboard side. Wide eyed, Lyre did as he was told, understanding just how dangerous this situation could get.

The white flag was only halfway up when the Swordfish shot off another round of cannon fire at it…which landed much closer. “Give us a chance, dammit!” Tsabrak growled.

He had to do something…he was beginning to see just how dangerous the deceptively mild looking little ship truly was, to be able to fire weapons that quickly. “I must do something…now,” he murmured. The very real possibility that Lythas might lose patience and sink him altogether gave him few options. He could do one of three things; return fire and piss Lythas off more, use his magic to gain the upper hand, or teleport himself onto the deck of the Swordfish and demand to speak to the captain.

The safest route was obviously the second one…he could create a fog around the Swordfish to blind her, and then call the wind into the Black Cat’s sails to get safely out of range. The problem was, he was uncertain how long the range was on those lightning fast cannons the smaller vessel boasted. He sighed. Well, he wanted to see Lythallendar again…now was his chance. Of course, the lad’s men might skewer him the moment he appeared on the deck of the ship, but it was a risk he had to take.

~xox~

“Father, I’m not so certain that’s the same ship that was following us, earlier.” The young woman had black, velvety hair that fell to her mid-back. Her inhumanly bright, blue-gray eyes were narrowed as she peered at the larger ship. “I really think you should find out for certain before you fire on them again.”

The person whom she referred to as her father looked as young as she did…a mere lad, to the eye that knew no better. He smiled and replied; “You know how clever some of the pirates in these waters can be, dearest. I will take no chances.”

He turned to the shipmate in charge of firing the cannons and opened his mouth to give the order to fire again, but a commotion suddenly arose on the deck, distracting the young man. He shifted his unearthly green eyes towards the scuffle to see what the matter was.

“What is all this?” he said as he moved towards the spot on the deck that was suddenly crowded. He heard one of his crew tell someone not to move if they didn’t want their throat slit. “What is going _on_?” he cried more forcefully, pushing his way past curious onlookers.

“We’ve got a stowaway, sir,” said one of the crewmen, “don’t know how he got on board, but we think he’s Lashran. He’s got eyes and ears like your son.”

The captain frowned in confusion and ordered his men to step aside so that he could see whom this intruder was. His lips parted as they did so, and his bright eyes widened with recognition as a tall man with a swimmer’s build and incredibly handsome features was revealed. The man’s silver hair was long, reaching his waist in a flowing, moon pale mane. His skin was a creamy bronze color and flawless, and his large eyes were golden in color and slit pupiled.

“Tsabrak?” murmured the captain in surprise. The man started to take a step towards him in response, but one of the crewmembers pressed a cutlass against his throat, forcing him to reconsider.

~xox~

Tsabrak tried to speak, but his heart was in his throat and all that came out was a soft gurgling sound. The memory of Lythallendar paled in comparison to the vision of him in the flesh. The lifebearer’s raven locks spilled over his shoulders and down his back, and it was difficult to describe whether it was loosely curly or very wavy. The thick mass of it was held back from the youthful, beautiful face by silver circlet of metal, yet the feathered fringe hanging over the expressive emerald eyes could not be tamed, it seemed. Tsabrak’s gaze traveled down to observe that Lythas’ body, clad in black breeches and a deep green, loose shirt, was as graceful and appealing as he remembered it.

“H-he just sort of appeared on the deck, Master Darshaw,” one of the men said in confusion.

Lythas shook stray locks of hair out of his eyes and furrowed his brow. “What are you doing here, Tsabrak?”

Tsabrak smirked. “Pardon my rude entrance, sweet one, but it was the quickest way to ask you to stop firing on my ship.”

A dangerous glimmer lit the green eyes, and Tsabrak frowned at the sight. “You are the one who has been following us?” Lythas inquired, his delicate lips pursing in annoyance.

The sire’s puzzlement must have shown on his face, for Lythallendar relaxed and answered his own question, “No, of course not. I would have recognized the Black Cat. Worry not, Tsabrak; we are firing on another ship.”

Tsabrak shook his head, “No, Lythallendar…you are firing on the Black Cat…she’s been repainted for security reasons. We only caught up with you a short while ago.”

Lythas tilted his head to the side and motioned for his men to lower their weapons and step aside. The Lifebearer approached Tsabrak slowly, tilting his head back to stare up at him with a wary expression. “Then the ship that has been following us is yours, after all?”

Tsabrak messaged the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, feeling a headache coming on. “No, Lythallendar…I told you…we only just found you. We haven’t been following you so much as trying to catch up to you. Your son is on board, and he is very concerned about you.”

A young woman pushed through the crowd and said, “Lyre is on that ship? Oh, balls…Father, you nearly sunk Lyre!” She looked enough like Lythallendar to be his twin sister. Tsabrak bowed to her, remembering when he’d looked into those eyes when they first opened to see the world.

“Aurora, I presume?” he said softly, grinning in recognition.

She turned from her father and stared up at Tsabrak suspiciously. “Who the hell is _he_ , Father?” she questioned, tossing her hair over her shoulders and drumming her delicate fingers on a shapely thigh.

Lythas snapped, “Language if you please, Aurora! You spout off worse filth than Master Pete!” to Tsabrak, he said, “I do not understand this, Tsabrak. You vanished for years, and now you suddenly reappear and tell me you have my son on your ship?”

Tsabrak took one of Lythas’ elegant, long fingered hands in his and squeezed it. “I think this would be best explained with your son present, Lythallendar. What do you say to both our ships docking in Driscal and we find an Inn to rest at, for the night? I am curious about this ship you mentioned following you, and I’m certain you’d like to know where I’ve been hiding.”

Lythas chewed his bottom lip, a nervous habit that he had never grown out of. Tsabrak stared at him with warm amber eyes. “Very well, Tsabrak. I shall order my men to put us into port. Can you get back to your ship using the same technique that you used to get onto mine?”

The sire nodded, reluctantly letting go of the alabaster pale hand he held. “Aye, it’s a fairly easy skill…you should remember that.”

Lythas continued to stare, and Tsabrak finally realized that the younger lashran was not seeing him…he was looking right through him in a daze.

_~”Oh, Lythallendar…what has happened to you?”~_

Aurora put her arm around her father and murmured to him, shaking him gently. “Father…did you hear what the man just said?”

Lythas swayed a bit, then blinked his long-lashed eyes and shook his head. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked up at Tsabrak again-focusing on him, this time. “Pardon me…I seem to have drifted. Yes, of course…that would be best.”

~xox~

“I like the little braids,” Lythas commented as they seated themselves at a table in the Paradise inn. Tsabrak held perfectly still as he reached across the table to take one of them between his fingers and examine it. There was one on each side of Tsabrak’s head, which fell with the rest of his shiny hair. “Do they mean something?”

The sire swallowed, amazed that such casual contact from Lythas could make him feel lightheaded. “Not especially…I simply grew bored one day and decided to try a new look.” He smiled crookedly to cover up his emotions.

Lythas nodded in understanding and released the soft strands of hair, settling back in his chair once again. He sighed and looked at Lyre, who was sitting beside Tsabrak. “Why did you feel the need to come searching for me, son? What was so important that it could not wait until I returned from this trip?”

“I was worried about you, Father,” answered Lyre truthfully, “you haven’t been yourself since sire died. Sometimes I think your mind is somewhere else entirely, and that isn’t a good thing when you’re out doing what you do. I thought, since you’ve told us how much Master Tsabrak helped you and sire in the past, he might be able to help you now.”

Lythas lowered his gaze and frowned. “So you think I am mad, do you?” he murmured. “What do you say to this, Aurora? Have I lost all sense of reason?”

The young woman looked from her father to Lyre and back again, snapping a brief glare at Tsabrak that told him she blamed him for this conversation. “Of course we don’t think you’re crazy, Father…I think Lyre is just over-reacting a little bit,” she ignored the indignant look her brother shot her and she stroked her father’s shiny hair. “You have been…depressed for all this time. I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t bother me, but I sure as hell don’t think you’re crazy.”

“Lyre tells me you’ve been contemplating making a visit to Nandar,” Tsabrak said.

Lythas raised his eyes and looked at Tsabrak warily. “What if I am? Is that such a bad thing? Do you not think that Aurora and Lyre deserve the chance to be among their own kind?” in a quieter voice, he added, “To find someone who will does not age, as they will not?”

Pity welled up in Tsabrak as Lythallendar’s beautiful eyes filled with tears before he could lower his gaze to conceal it. So, he was trying to protect his children from potentially suffering the heartache that he himself was going through. Carefully, Tsabrak reached across the table and took Lythallendar’s trembling hands in his own, rubbing the palms with his thumbs.

“I understand why you want to do this, Lythas,” he said in a husky whisper, his throat aching with sympathy for the younger lashran, “but I’ve explained to you why it is dangerous. Your Aurora is a very special young lady…the first of her kind. What do you think their reaction will be to a female lashran? The danger is not only to you, my young friend, but to the human race as well. There are things that you don’t know about our people, things about the past. Our ancestors once wiped out a substantial portion of the human population on Avras, when misunderstandings and disagreements between our two races grew violent.”

Lythas snapped his head back and stared at Tsabrak in disbelief. “That is insane! The Nandar lashran do not approve of violence!”

“Aye, not anymore, they don’t. They outlawed weapons except for hunting and protection when the elders realized how much damage they were doing to the rest of the life on this planet. Our people’s numbers began to dwindle steadily as they isolated themselves from the rest of the world, and the human population spread. Now, faced with the fear that we might become extinct, some of the council members are restless.”

Tsabrak sighed, thinking of the last time he’d visited his homeland. “During the years that I was away, I visited Nandar myself. They are using weapons again, Lythallendar—and not just to hunt game with. They’ve begun to train, and I didn’t like some of the things I heard while I was there. While some warrior guilds have always remained, there haven’t been preparations for actual battle for some time. They’ve cut off trading with Humans, and many of them complain that our folk should spread out more and build great cities again. I think that seeing how quickly humans have spread across the world has put them into a panic.”

He gazed deeply into the lifebearer’s troubled eyes and whispered; “Lythas, you have proven that lashran can interbreed with humans and what’s more, the Lashran blood overpowers the Human. With what I’ve heard in Nandar, if our people learn of this, they might try to use it as a weapon. I do not even want to think of what the more ambitious ones might try to do with Aurora. Our healers may very well wish to experiment with her…breed her and see what they can come up with. Do you want to see that happen to your daughter?”

Lythas was trembling now, and Aurora was as white as a ghost. “I…had no idea,” he whispered, shivering as if he was cold.

~xox~

Tsabrak motioned to the serving wench and ordered a round of mead for them. His hands were warm and reassuring as they held the lifebearer’s. Lythas looked at his son, then at his daughter, and his cheeks flushed with guilt. “To think of the danger I was trying to bring the two of you into,” he said shakenly.

Lyre tried to console him. “It’s alright, Father…you did nothing wrong. You were only trying to do what you thought was best for us.”

Aurora rubbed the tensing muscles in Lythas’ shoulders. “It was my fault for carrying on about how I wanted a lashran buck of my own…don’t fret over this, Daddy.”

~xox~

Lythas mumbled on as if he did not hear them, his hands squeezing Tsabrak’s painfully. He cursed himself in both the Avran tongue and the Nandarian dialect, and he began to rock back and forth.

“Coren, where _are_ you,” he said desperately, his bright, dilated gaze searching the common room as if expecting to find his dead bond mate strolling around in the crowd somewhere.

Aurora tried to shush him as he started to call out for Coren to come and help him decide what to do. The young woman’s throat worked as she swallowed the tears that were trying to surface as her father drifted out of reality. Lyre bowed his head and put his face in his hands to conceal the wetness that was now streaming from his eyes. Tsabrak gritted his teeth against the pain of Lythas’ deathgrip on his hands and asked the returning serving wench if she had some targash ammonia—a substance that most barmaids kept on their person to subdue patrons that got violent when drunk. She nodded, her eyes wide at the spectacle of the beautiful young man standing up and shouting across the room for someone who clearly was not there. Tsabrak was thankful that Lythas had let go of his hands, or doing this would have been difficult.

“Father…please!” cried Aurora, struggling to keep Lythas from leaving the table, “Sire isn’t here!”

Tsabrak was thankful that the lass was at least making it difficult for Lythas to take off, even if she wasn’t getting through to him. He took the small vial that the serving wench handed him, and he dabbed some of the clear liquid from it onto a napkin.

“Forgive me, Lythallendar,” he said grimly, and he gently moved Aurora aside and clamped the cloth over her father’s mouth and nose.

Lythallendar was a lot stronger than Tsabrak remembered. He yowled in pain as the lad stomped on his foot angrily and twisted deftly in his grasp. The lifebearer nearly broke Tsabrak’s hold on him, his lean body working to free itself from his grasp.

“Shhh…easy, my friend,” Tsabrak murmured against Lythas’ ear in their native language, not daring to break his hold. The lifebearer pulled desperately at Tsabrak’s arms, and his green eyes were wide with fear and betrayal. His cries were muffled by the sire’s hand and the cloth over his face, and people watched curiously as Lythas slowly lost his strength and went limp in Tsabrak’s arms.

Tsabrak lifted the unconscious lifebearer into his arms and looked at his bewildered offspring. “Come…we shall take him to his room,” he murmured.

Though tears threatened to spill from witnessing his beloved Lythallendar in such trauma, Tsabrak was now certain that his broken mental state was a passing thing. He had witnessed other lashran behave in the same manner before when losing their lifemates. It was a curse of his kind, he supposed. Lashran felt so deeply and passionately about everything that sometimes, it overwhelmed them. Aurora and Lyre followed the pirate as he carried their father up the stairs that led to the suites.

~xox~

-To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

“How long does that stuff last?” Aurora questioned warily as she pulled the bedcovers aside so that the pirate could set her father down.

Tsabrak lay Lythas down on the bed carefully and pulled his boots off. “The effect will wear off shortly. Don’t worry.” He slipped the covers over the unconscious lifebearer, and he stared down at the delicate face for a moment. Tsabrak impulsively smoothed a few loose strands of hair away from Lythas’ eyes.

Aurora and Lyre glanced at one another, both noticing the smitten expression on Tsabrak’s face as he watched over their father. Lyre seemed pleased about it, but Aurora most certainly was not. She had seen enough people of both sexes panting after her father, and in her eyes, Coren Darshaw was the only mate worthy of him. Her blue eyes regarded Tsabrak steadily and with warning as the older lashran reluctantly moved away from the bedside and sat down on the sofa beside Lyre.

“Alright, you…what are your intentions?” she crossed her arms over her chest and stared at Tsabrak with a demanding expression.

The pirate looked mildly surprised at the question. “My intentions? Dear girl, I thought I had already made that plain to you. I intend to watch over your father and the two of you; at least until he is recovered from this stage in his life.”

“So, you’re saying that he _will_ get better?” inquired Lyre hopefully.

Tsabrak smiled at the young man and patted his shoulder. “Aye, Lyre. Lythallendar will heal, with time. The hardest part is making sure that he doesn’t harm himself or others until he does. You see, we lashran become so solidly connected with our bond mates that sometimes we cannot cope when we lose them. It’s especially hard on lifebearers. I believe that the bond a lifebearer shares with his mate becomes stronger when he has born children by him. That’s in theory, of course.”

Aurora sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked her father’s cheek with her fingers. “So, in other words you mean to say that love drives lashran mad…especially lifebearers. Is that it?”

Tsabrak shook his head and closed his eyes wearily. “That’s a rather severe interpretation, Aurora. Madness may come of love when loss occurs, but it isn’t a given. Lythas has always been a passionate, caring lad. Give him time.”

She slowly looked at him and pinched her lips together in thought. “I’ll never fall that hard for another person…I don’t want this to happen to me.” her voice trembled with emotion, and she kissed Lythas on the forehead and whispered, “It’ll be alright, Father. We’ll make you well again.”

Lyre turned to Tsabrak and said; “Sir, would you mind staying here with us tonight? I…I think that Father trusts you, despite the way he was acting earlier. He seems to feel safe with you nearby,” the young sire ignored the irritated look his sister threw at him. 

Tsabrak nodded. “Of course, youngling. I swore an oath, long ago. You could not drag me away if you tried.”

Aurora sighed and shook her head. She didn’t want this handsome pirate confusing her poor father further. She would have to keep a close eye on him to make sure he behaved himself.

~xox~

 Long lashes fluttered as Lythas slowly opened his impossibly green eyes and stared at Tsabrak. The sire noticed the motion and he looked down at the lifebearer, a tender smile curving his lips. “Back with us, eh? How do you feel?”

Lythas blinked. “I feel…confused. The last thing I remember was speaking to you in the common room. How did I get here, in this bed? Did I black out?”

Tsabrak lowered his gaze, his high cheekbones flushed a bit. “After a fashion, yes. You…had a minor episode. You were hallucinating about Coren,” the golden gaze lifted, and there was guilt in it, “we could not get you to calm down, so one of the waitresses gave me a bottle of Targash ammonia, and I dampened a napkin with it and held it over your mouth and nose until you passed out. Forgive me, Lythallendar. It seemed to be the only recourse at the time.”

Lythas paled. “I remember none of that. Was it terrible?”

Tsabrak sighed, “Well, you were causing quite a stir, but you did not try to hurt anyone,” he thought it best that he not mention the swelling bruise on the top of his foot from where the Lifebearer had angrily stomped on it in his struggles.

Lythas closed his eyes wearily. “I see. Oh, Tsabrak…what is happening to me? It is so difficult to focus, sometimes. I feel as though I am living in a perpetual state of confusion since my beloved passed away. Am I…mad?”

Tsabrak took one of Lythas’ slender hands in his and kissed it. His amber eyes were fierce as he murmured, “Nay, dear one. You aren’t mad; have no doubt of that. You’re dealing with a deep, aching grief, and your condition will improve with time. As I was saying to your children, it’s quite common for lashran to go through this sort of stage after losing their mate.”

The young lifebearer looked relieved, and he gazed about the room and saw Lyre and Aurora sitting on the couch. Brother and sister leaned against each other and were sleeping uneasily. “My poor younglings, to have witnessed me behaving in such a manner,” he whispered achingly. “Could you…wake them up and tell them to come to the bed with me? It is not good for their necks and shoulders to sleep like that.”

Tsabrak smiled and rose to do as Lythas asked. Aurora’s mouth opened in a huge yawn as the sire gently shook her and whispered for she and Lyre to get into bed. “What time is it?” she questioned as she roused her brother.

“It is passed midnight. The two of you dozed off over two hours ago, but I didn’t want to wake you,” he answered. He watched as Lythallendar’s children climbed into bed with him, one on each side. They both snuggled up to their father protectively, and he nuzzled their hair one at a time.

“Tsabrak, it is quite a large bed…you could likely fit in here comfortably, too,” offered Lythas sleepily.

Tsabrak opened his mouth, then closed it again as he reconsidered taking the offer. As tempting as it was, he would either have to be pressed up against Aurora or Lyre. It would be awkward at best, and he had a paranoid suspicion that Aurora might claw his eyes out if he dared to touch her father during the night.

“That’s alright, Lythallendar. I’ll stay until you’re all asleep, and then I shall rent a room of my own. Just be sure and let me know before you set out again in the morning.”

Lythas chewed his lip, his expression both wary and hopeful. “Then, you’ll be coming with us?” at the older lashran’s nod, his lips curved into a tiny smile, “what about the Black Cat? Surely, you don’t mean to leave her docked here…someone could recognize her, and I am quite certain there was a ship similar to yours following us earlier.”

Tsabrak shook his head. “Don’t fret yourself over it. I’ll simply have my men take her back to Tariff and dock her there until we return. I intend to stay with you until you’re over this difficult stage in your life, my friend.”

Lythas nodded slowly and fought a yawn, making Tsabrak grin. He was so innocent and adorable, even after all he had been through. It made Tsabrak’s heart swell even further with love, even as it filled him with worry.

~xox~

True to his word, the next morning Lythas asked the innkeeper which room Tsabrak was in, and then he knocked on the door and let the sire know that they were getting ready to put out to sea again. Tsabrak opened the door, and for a moment, Lythas stared dumbly up at him. He really _was_ a gorgeous creature. Even if he could never fall in love again, Lythallendar could appreciate beauty when he saw it. He blushed and shyly lowered his gaze as Tsabrak stepped out of the room to join him.

“Will we have breakfast before we leave, Lythallendar?”

Lythas nodded, and the pair went downstairs to the common room where Lyre and Aurora waited. It was a rather tense breakfast, with few words spoken. Lythas sensed his daughter’s dislike for the handsome pirate, but he could think of no words to say to her that would soothe the mistrustful glares she shot at Tsabrak. He sighed and bit into his toast, eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he chewed.

Tsabrak was in love with him…Lythas knew this in his heart. It showed every time the golden gaze swept tenderly over him. He felt bad about it, yet at the same time, it was comforting. He needed his friend…needed him to keep him sane. Lythallendar wished that he could promise Aurora that nothing would happen between he and Tsabrak, but he wasn’t sure that was the truth, himself. By lashran standards, Lythas was still quite young and he was in his prime childbearing years. If he started a fertility cycle again, Tsabrak was likely going to be in trouble. He couldn’t stop the grin that surfaced on his lips, even when the object of his thoughts gave him a puzzled look.

As he studied Tsabrak’s face, Lythas sobered and admitted to himself that he was using him. Somehow, Tsabrak’s features managed to look both pretty and masculine at the same time. Wracked with guilt, Lythas lowered his gaze and thought of how unfair it would be to Tsabrak if he gave into his body’s urgings and bedded him. He could make love with Tsabrak and he could give him caring attention, but he could never love him the way he had loved Coren. Lythallendar squared his shoulders and decided not to let that happen. Tsabrak deserved someone who could love him back.

~xox~

It wasn’t so bad. Lythas would often drift out of a conversation and stare blankly into space, but he hadn’t had any more episodes like the one at the Inn for a week, now. Tsabrak watched over him with a fierce protectiveness, and even Aurora was forced to admit that the sire’s presence was reassuring. Lythas actually seemed more like his old self around Tsabrak.

“I think they should become lovers,” whispered Lyre in her ear one day as the two of them watched their father having a pleasant conversation with the pirate.

Aurora’s steely eyes widened and she gave her brother a look that said she plainly thought he was mad. “What?!” she sputtered, and he grabbed her arm and pulled her around the corner so that their father wouldn’t hear.

“You know how lonely Father is…I’m just saying that it may be time for him to move on, like we have!” He caressed his sister’s cheek fondly as she glared up at him, “I know how troubling the idea of Father being with someone besides Sire is for you, but think a moment; is it fair to him, to live the rest of his days alone? Father is still very young by lashran standards, and I say it is a waste for him to be alone, pining for a man he will never see again.”

Aurora looked as though she was about to cry. She never showed her vulnerable side to anyone except Lyre. “Oh, I know you’re right, but it isn’t fair! Why does it have to be a pirate? If Father is going to be with someone, I would prefer it to be someone who’ll get him out of this life. He doesn’t have the personality to do this, Lyre, and it worries me. What if he gets caught? You know, he wasn’t hallucinating that other ship following us.”

Lyre nodded in understanding. “Of course, I’d prefer Father to settle down and live a quiet, safe life, too, but isn’t it selfish of us to pick and choose what’s best for him? I think he is stronger than we give him credit for, and at least Tsabrak is another lashran. He wouldn’t have to watch him grow old and die as he did with Sire.”

“Aye, but he may end up having to watch him get blown to bits, or hanged,” she said ominously, “Do you think that would be easier on him?”

Lyre chuckled at his sisters less-than-subtle point. “I’ve thought about that too, Aurora. Yet, don’t we all take risks like that in this world? It’s a violent world we live in, and that isn’t likely to change in our lifetimes. I think we should just let things happen as they may, and be happy for Father if something develops between he and Tsabrak.”

She heaved a sigh. “You’re right, as always. Mind you, nobody will ever be good enough for Daddy in my eyes, but I _do_ want him to be happy.”

Any further thoughts she might have wanted to share were interrupted as a chestnut-haired young man in pale blue robes materialized right beside her on deck. “Morgan?! Why didn’t you send word before popping up, out of the blue?” she said crossly.

The young Bargel winced. “My apologies, Aurora. I did some auguries as you asked, and I have some information for you. It turns out that you _are_ being followed, and you might have a hard time swallowing who it is that’s been on your trail.”

She shared a frown with Lyre and said, “Go on,” with a nod.

Morgan obliged. “It’s a lashran ship. That’s why it looked so much like Sir Tsabrak’s. Evidently, his style is popular among lashran shipbuilders.”

Lyre was hard pressed to keep the excitement from his expression as he said, “Do you know anything about these lashran? Do they mean us harm, or could they be friendly?” The last was said hopefully. It would be good to meet some of their own kind…but not in battle.

Morgan shrugged, “I can’t tell, to be honest with you. One of them is a magic user, and I couldn’t get passed his barriers.”

“But, why would a lashran ship be following us?” questioned Aurora out loud, “Unless they know about Lyre and I.” Her eyes narrowed, and she leaned around the corner to fix Tsabrak with a suspicious glare.

Lyre shook his head. “I know what you’re thinking, sister, and I don’t believe it. Why would Tsabrak so adamantly warn us against going to Nandar, if he already told them about us?”

Morgan spoke his thoughts if a low voice. “Unless he didn’t know how dangerous it was for them to know about you until _after_ he had already said something. That could be the reason he acted so quickly when I told him what your father was planning to do. Maybe I should talk to him about this. Together, we might be able to break through the other caster’s concealment and find out who they are and what they want.”

Seeing Aurora purse her lips, Lyre said, “I really don’t think that this is Tsabrak’s fault. Not directly, at least. Morgan’s idea is a good one.”

~xox~

“Morgan! I did not even know you had arrived!” exclaimed Lythas as the young man approached. Lyre and Aurora followed closely behind. The lifebearer’s expression fell as he noticed the disturbed looks on the young faces. “What is it?” he questioned, his green eyes flicking from his frowning daughter to Tsabrak as she glared at the sire.

“Someone’s been following us, Father. Morgan says it’s a lashran ship.” Her gaze was icy on Tsabrak.

Lythas turned and looked up at his friend. “Did you know about this?” he inquired, but he could tell by the surprised expression on his face that he did not.

“No…I had no idea!” Tsabrak turned to Morgan. “Do you have a name for us, lad? It could be a merchant vessel and if so, I may know the captain.”

Morgan shook his head. “No, sir. I can’t break through the barrier they’ve got up. I don’t even know if the magic user is one of the passengers on the ship or the captain himself. I was hoping that you and I could link and try together.”

Tsabrak scratched his chin and nodded. “Aye, that may be the way to go. They _could_ be pirates like me and they might want to parlay with us…though the possibility is rather unlikely. Nandarian culture is very much against smuggling and piracy. Do you know how far away from us they are, lad?”

“Two days…no more. They seem to want to stay out of sight.”

Lythas frowned in confusion. “If they meant us harm, why did they not do something while we were docked in Driscal? They could have tracked us to the Inn and done something then, or gotten on board the Swordfish and either sabotaged it or taken my men hostage. I don’t understand.”

Tsabrak shook his head. “I’ve no clue, little one. It appears that they’re curious about you, for the moment. Perhaps they want to measure your strength before starting an assault. Morgan and I shall try to find out their intentions—or at least who they are.”

He patted the lifebearer soothingly on the shoulder before going below deck to his quarters with the younger sorcerer. “Have you ever linked with another magician, Morgan?” he asked as he locked the door to ensure their privacy.

The young man shook his head. “No, sir…I’m really not supposed to do this for another year of training. They say you can go mad if you aren’t linking with a really experienced caster.”

Surprised, Tsabrak raised his silvery brows and grinned. “That’s a bit of pressure on my head, lad. How do you know it’s safe to link with me?”

Morgan shrugged. “Mom told me how good you are. She said you’ve always had magic at your disposal, and didn’t have to learn it like the rest of us…so I assume it’s as natural to you as breathing.”

Tsabrak’s grin softened into a nostalgic smile. Morgan did remind him in many ways of Charlotte. He instructed the lad to sit cross-legged on the floor and hold his palms up, and then he did the same, sitting right in front of him. He placed his own long hands flat against Morgan’s, and then he closed his eyes and instructed the other to go into trance.

Even with their combined strength, they were only able to penetrate the other magician’s concealment enough for Tsabrak to catch a glimpse of startled, wide lifebearer eyes. The eyes were such a pale grey that they were nearly silver, and surrounding the lashran’s stunning features was a thick mane of hair the same color silver as Tsabrak’s. The contact was abruptly broken, and both he and Morgan suffered a headache for their efforts.

Tsabrak swore in both Avran and Nandarian while Morgan looked at him expectantly. “You know him, don’t you?” the young Bargel questioned.

Tsabrak nodded. “Aye, that I do. He is my younger sibling, Vurkanan. He wanted to come with me when I left after my last visit to Nandar. Stubborn, young fool!”

Morgan’s brow furrowed. “He can’t be _too_ much of a fool, if he’s that good with magic to keep both of us out. What do you think he wants?”

Tsabrak sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “My guess would be that he wants to join me in my travels. Our parents promised him to a sire he isn’t fond of. My Father thought it was time to have him settled down and starting a family, you see. Vurkanan’s a bit on the wild side.”

Morgan smirked. “Kind of like you,” he reasoned.

Tsabrak couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yes, kind of like me. I never thought he would run away, though. I’m concerned that he may not be the only lashran who knows about Aurora and Lyre. Damn it all…we shall have to meet him and find out what he is up to. I’m already regretting ever having mentioned Lythallendar’s family to him.”

~xox~

Lythas was quite calm and understanding of Tsabrak’s error in telling his younger sibling about them. In fact, he was a bit amused. Despite Tsabrak’s misgivings, Lythallendar was relieved to find out that their mysterious follower was his brother. He couldn’t imagine anyone related to his friend being a threat to them. Being a lifebearer himself, he felt he understood Vurkanan’s feelings and curiosity. Sires never really could understand lifebearer’s actions, and Lythas told Tsabrak so.

“There is no need to panic until you have good reason, Tsabrak. If he is seeking us out to join us as you suspect, I’d be happy to have him aboard. It will be nice to have another lifebearer around, after all this time.”

Tsabrak snorted. “Believe me, Vurkanan is one lashran you would do well to avoid. He is brash and impulsive, and he’s not a bit modest. You should see the clothes he wears! He acts like a tart!”

Lythas muffled a laugh, his eyes clearly saying he thought he was exaggerating. “Surely, he is not that bad, Tsabrak! Perhaps he merely seeks attention? I had no idea you even _had_ any siblings, until you told me just now. Maybe he’s lonely and desires the company of his older sibling. We lifebearers thrive on affection, you know.” The green eyes became sad, and Lythas bit his lip and sighed.

Seeing how distant Lythallendar’s eyes were becoming, Tsabrak gently shook him. “Stay with me, sweet one,” he murmured.

Startled out of the trance he had been going in to, Lythas blushed in embarrassment and tried to cover up his lapse. “So, what are we to do about this development?”

Tsabrak thought on it. “I think we will have to wait, and make no threatening gestures. Once he’s certain we won’t fire upon him, Vurkanan’s curiosity will get the better of him and he’ll likely send us a message.”

Lythas nodded. “So we wait? That sounds reasonable.”

~xox~

The waiting was difficult. After three days of sailing with no sign of the other ship, they docked in a small port to restock their supplies. Lythas explained that they had some cargo on board to get to Valkyrie Falls. Tsabrak still found it oddly amusing that the gentle lifebearer was smuggling illegal goods. Even as he marveled at the changes in Lythallendar’s life, Tsabrak found himself falling deeper and deeper in love with him, and it was so very difficult sometimes to stop himself from declaring it in front of everyone.

Morgan stayed with them, eager to help if they needed it. Tsabrak suspected that half of his reason was to be near Aurora. The sire felt a bit sorry for the lad, because Aurora made a habit of teasing the Bargel—though he suspected she returned some of his feelings. Lyre was a quiet individual…much like his father. He kept to himself and read most of the time.

One night, Tsabrak nearly lost his patience. He had considered teleporting directly on board his sibling’s ship, but he knew that the magical wardings would prevent him from reaching his destination. Fed up with this little game, he was heading to his cabin to work the spell, even if it meant he would materialize in the water beside the ship instead of on it. As he passed Lythas’ room, he paused. He could hear soft sobs coming from within.

Tsabrak leaned against the door and touched the cool wood with his fingertips as he listened to his friend’s muffled weeping. He stroked the wood as he wished to do with Lythas’ cheek, and his heart ached for him. He should leave. Lythallendar’s grief was a private thing, and he should not intrude. However, his body refused to agree with his mind. He watched in fascination as his own hand curled into a light fist and rapped gently on the door.

“Who is it?” came a shaken call from within, followed by a sniffle.

“It is Tsabrak, little one. I…was just wondering if I can get you anything. Tea, perhaps?” He felt like a great fool for making such a pathetic offering, and he cursed himself inwardly.

“The door is open,” replied Lythas.

Swallowing hard, Tsabrak turned the knob and entered the cabin. It was larger inside than his own, but not extravagantly decorated. Two chairs, a table, a dresser, and a large bed adorned this room. The only decoration was a drawing of a dragon, pinned to the wall. He was mildly surprised that Lythas did not keep a portrait of Coren up, though he supposed it would pain the gentle lifebearer to have a constant reminder of his dead mate.

Lythas was in bed, with the covers pulled up to his chin. His emerald eyes were luminous with tears as they regarded Tsabrak. The sire shut the door behind him and cleared his throat, wondering what he could say or do that would make things better for the younger man.

“Can I get anything for you, Lythallendar?” he said softly, his eyes warm and concerned.

Lythas shook his head and his lips trembled. “Not unless you can make me forget,” he whispered brokenly.

Tsabrak sighed and crossed the room to sit on the edge of the bed. He tenderly ran his fingers through the lifebearer’s raven hair. “I would not do that, even if I could, Lythas. Remembering those whom you love is as important as breathing, in my opinion. I would, however help you to remember the things that make you smile…things that you are thankful for. Try to think of the good times you had with him.”

Lythas looked away and sniffed. “Those memories hurt the most, for I can never have that again.” He looked at the older lashran again and his eyes held a combination of dread and pain in them. “I keep waking up from nightmares…dreams that someone hurts my children. I want them to end!”

Before he could stop himself, Tsabrak slid beneath the covers beside the trembling lad and pulled him into his arms. He stroked his silk-clad back and whispered, “There now…don’t fret, love. I’ll not let anyone harm you or your children. On that, you have my word.”

Lythas nodded and hugged Tsabrak fiercely, burying his face against the sire’s chest. He impulsively nuzzled the smooth skin exposed in the opening of Tsabrak’s shirt and he sighed. “Will you…stay with me, tonight?” he whispered, tilting his head back to regard him hopefully.

Tsabrak nodded impulsively, though in the back of his mind, he wondered if he could simply hold him without letting his hands wander. “Of course, Lythallendar. For as long as you like.”

Lythas gave a tremulous smile and snuggled against him again, and Tsabrak kissed the crown of his head and stroked his hair until he fell asleep. For the sire, sleep was a long time in coming, and he had to pull slightly away from Lythas to keep him from feeling how aroused he was by the contact.

~xox~

Lythas yawned and stretched as he woke. He paused, feeling arms around him and the warmth of another body against his. Opening his eyes, he saw that Tsabrak was still in the bed with him, and a little smile formed on the lifebearer’s lips. How kind Tsabrak was, to put up with him this way. The sire was fast asleep, his warm breath caressing Lythas’ face through parted lips.

 _~”I could get used to this,”~_ thought Lythallendar, feeling safe for the first time since Coren passed away. Last night was the first night of unbroken sleep he’d experienced in quite some time, and he was worldly enough to know he had Tsabrak’s reassuring presence to thank for that.

As he stared at his sleeping companion, Lythas began to feel aroused. His cheeks warmed as the crotch of his pajama bottoms started to tent with his condition. He wriggled, trying to put more space between the two of them so that it would not be so obvious, but the movement woke Tsabrak up. Those tawny eyes opened to regard him sleepily, and Lythas chewed his lip and went still.

“I am sorry…I did not mean to wake you,” he apologized.

Tsabrak smiled and squeezed him gently, nuzzling his soft hair. “Think nothing of it. I generally rise earlier than this, and needed to be woken up. We can’t have me becoming lazy, can we?”

~xox~

 

Tsabrak felt the hardness of Lythas desire pressing against his thigh, and his heartbeat picked up. He said nothing, however, for he had always known Lythallendar found him attractive. It was lust, and nothing more. He swallowed a lump of frustration and hope. Could those feelings develop into love, with time? What would Lythallendar say if he asked him to bond with him? Foolishly perhaps, Tsabrak had made another pair of bracelets, two years ago. His thoughts then were that he could court the lifebearer when his grieving ended, and perhaps start a new life with him.

Lythas watched the dreamy expressions flitter over Tsabrak’s face, and he smiled. “What are you thinking of?”

Still muzzy-headed with sleep, Tsabrak’s murmured answer came from his heart, not his head. “I was wondering if you could ever grow to love me, Lythas. Not as you loved Coren, of course, but if you could even care for me, we could be happy together.” He kissed the lifebearer softly on the lips, and Lythas worked his mouth and tried to think of a reply.

“Oh, Tsabrak…you deserve so much more than I could give you,” he finally said, in an aching whisper, “you are the kindest, bravest soul I have ever met…how could a confused, insane lifebearer like myself possibly give you the love you deserve?”

Tsabrak winced inwardly…he should not have said anything. Well, the cat was out of the bag, so to speak. He’d gone this far, he might as well finish it quickly and deal with the pain of rejection. With a sigh, he exposed his heart even further.

“I know that you feel you cannot love again, Lythallendar, and I respect that. All I ask is that you show me affection, and perhaps give me a child or two, if fate allows it. I would be the happiest man on Wyndrah, if I could hold you this way every night. I am asking you to bond with me, Lythallendar.”

His eyes were full of pain and anticipation, and Tsabrak literally held his breath as he stared at Lythas and awaited his answer.

Lythas’ emerald eyes were round with surprise as he stammered, “Oh…oh, Tsabrak…I do not know what to say! I am very fond of you, but how could I live with myself, knowing that I was causing you pain? A bonding requires love…and…” he trailed off uncertainly as the golden gaze remained steady on him.

Tsabrak brushed the pad of his thumb over Lythas’ lips and murmured, “Some unions aren’t even based on whether the two parties _like_ one another, Lythallendar. You and I can talk to each other, enjoy one another’s company, and you cannot say that my touch displeases you.” a grin spread on his mouth as the lifebearer turned pink all over and did not deny it. “Can we not try? I cannot replace Coren…I know that. He was special. All I wish is to be your bondmate. You asked me the other day what you could do to repay me…all I want is you, Lythallendar. If there is a chance that you may grow to love me, I want to take it.”

~xox~

While his father was contemplating whether to take such a big step, Lyre was in the crows’ nest, reading a book of poetry that Tsabrak had given to him. “I wish I possessed the instinct to make words into art,” the young sire whispered wistfully as he read.

It was a beautiful day, and he had eagerly volunteered to watch for a while, so that he could be closer to the sun and feel the wind on his cheeks. Unfortunately, that wind kept blowing his tawny hair into his eyes. Irritably, he brushed aside another errant lock and swore softly. When he glanced up, he gave a small start. There it was: the lashran vessel. Lyre was suddenly thankful that the wind had been giving him such a difficult time. Otherwise, he might have stayed too absorbed in his book to notice the ship.

Lyre began to ring the warning bell and shout his discovery to the crew below. Aurora came out from below deck and shaded her sensitive eyes with her hand as she peered up at him.

“Is it the ship?” she hollered. When he nodded, she quickly disappeared below again to inform their father.

~xox~

“Are you sure that YOU want this, Tsabrak?” questioned Lythas as the sire rolled him onto his back and stared down at him longingly, “to be bonded with someone who may be incapable of providing the love you deserve?”

Tsabrak’s mouth was mere inches away from his as he whispered his response. “I have never wanted anything more than I want you.” He sealed the declaration with a kiss that stole the lifebearer’s breath away.

Lythas closed his eyes and couldn’t deny the tingles that shot through his body as Tsabrak’s lips pressed against his. The sire slid his tongue into Lythas’ mouth and teasingly stroked the moist heat with it. After a few moments, he broke the kiss and looked down at him, running his fingers through his hair as he awaited his answer.

Breathing heavily, Lythas parted his lips to speak, but a banging on his door startled both of them out of the moment. Frustrated at the interruption, he yelled: “What do you want?” with uncharacteristic anger.

“Lyre spotted the lashran ship again,” answered Aurora’s excited voice. “We think they’re finally going to speak to us! We need you on deck, Father!”

Tsabrak sighed and rolled off of Lythallendar. It was just like Vurkanan to show up at the most inconvenient moment. He turned his body away in an attempt to hide the prominent bulge in his breeches, but Lythas noticed it, and his green eyes were warm with desire as they met his.

“I suppose this will have to wait,” the lifebearer said softly, lowering his gaze.

Tsabrak nodded wordlessly and pulled his boots on. As he straightened his clothing, Lythas went to his dresser to pick out his own apparel. The lifebearer looked over his shoulder and smiled gently at him. “Are you angry?”

Tsabrak paused and looked at him. He forced a crooked smile to his face. “Nay, sweet one…merely frustrated. It seems I’m destined to be thwarted.” He gave Lythas a courtly bow and left the cabin so that the lifebearer could dress in privacy.

~xox~

Lythas smiled down at the shirt in his hands. Well, if Tsabrak was willing to take the chance and bond with him, who was he to deny him what he wanted? He had done so much for his family already…the least Lythallendar could do was try to be an affectionate, dutiful mate and give him children. That function still worked. He smirked down at his erection. That function worked a bit _too_ well, actually. He would give Tsabrak his answer as soon as possible.

“Forgive me, Coren,” he whispered, tears stinging his eyes, “I know you will understand…I am so very lonely. I shall never love anyone as I did you, though.” He took comfort in the fact that his mate’s last words were that he should find someone to share his life with. Yes, Coren would understand, even if Lythas himself did not.

~xox~

Aurora hugged her father as he stepped out on deck, wearing earth tones that accented his lovely eyes and dark hair. “They’ve raised a white flag, Daddy. They wish to speak with us.”

Lythas nodded. “Very good. Shall we drop anchor here and wait for them?” he turned to Tsabrak questioningly. The sire would know if that was a wise decision or not, being as it was his own sibling they would be waiting for.

Tsabrak nodded. “Aye, that’s a good idea. Vurkanan is impulsive, but he isn’t violent by nature. He wouldn’t try anything while under a truce flag.”

He turned to Lyre and he eyed him thoughtfully. “Now lad, I think I should warn you…sires tend to flock towards my brother the way moths flock towards lamplight. Keep your head about you, when he shows.”

Lyre looked surprised, but nodded, and Tsabrak was satisfied that the lad understood. To the Lashran of Nandar, Vurkanan embodied all that was perfection in a lifebearer, physically. They frowned on his deplorable, excessive personality, however. While lifebearers were indeed encouraged to be desirable to their sire counterparts, they were also expected to be soft-spoken, demure and polite. Vurkanan had the looks and the sensuality mastered, but he was outspoken, rebellious and often as guileless as a child.

Tsabrak bit his cheek to conceal the grin that was trying to surface. How would sweet, gentle Lyre deal with Vurkanan? The lad had a good head on his shoulders, so Tsabrak doubted he would be completely mesmerized by his sibling’s charms. Aurora was the one he was actually concerned with. Tsabrak had the feeling that if Vurkanan tried anything with Lyre, his sister might rip all of his pretty silver hair from his head.

Lythas looked up at Tsabrak in puzzlement as the sire guffawed. “What is so amusing?” he questioned, confusion plain on his face.

Tsabrak shook his head and waved his hand negligently. He didn’t know how to tell the lifebearer that he was picturing his daughter snatching Vurkanan bald. Lythas shrugged and gave him a strange look before turning his gaze back to the approaching vessel.

~xox~

When the other ship came close enough to make out the passengers on the deck, Lythas immediately guessed which one was Vurkanan. He was a smaller, more delicate version of Tsabrak, and he had feathers and beads decorating his thick, cascading mane of silver hair, which fell to his hips. As he got a better look at him, Lythallendar blushed. The other lifebearer was wearing all black, and parts were cut out of the garments to show his body off more efficiently. As Vurkanan turned to give orders to his men, Lythas could see that there was no material on the skin-tight breeches over the Lashran’s hips. His “shirt”—if it could even be called that—had long sleeves, but it was cut so high at the bottom that all of the tight stomach muscles were exposed, and the front of Vurkanan’s breeches dipped dangerously low in a V that came close to exposing his sex organs to the world.

When Lythas turned to Tsabrak and worked his mouth in shock, the sire merely shrugged and nodded. “Aye…I warned you. He has no qualms about showing his body off. It’s earned him the reputation of being promiscuous, though in his defense, he’s only bedded one sire in his lifetime.”

Staring back at the outrageous lifebearer, Lythas couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself. “Where is that sire now? Surely he would have something to say about this, if they are still together.”

Tsabrak grimaced. “He died at sea. It was a fishing accident…he got tangled up in the net and drowned.”

Lythas’ horror at Vurkanan’s apparel faded and became pity. “Poor thing,” he murmured, seeing the other lifebearer in a different light.

Tsabrak snorted. “It was over ten years ago, Lythallendar…he has no excuse to behave as he does.”

Lythas surprised him with a glare. “You clearly don’t know how a lifebearer’s heart works, if you think it is that easy to get over the loss of a mate, Tsabrak. I think your sibling acts the way he does to cover up his pain.”

Seeing that he was genuinely upset, Tsabrak wisely attempted to rectify the situation. “I did not mean it that way, Lythallendar. I simply meant that this self-destructive behavior isn’t making matters easier for him. Can you disagree with that?”

Lythas chewed his lip and noticed the way the sires on Vurkanan’s ship stared at his graceful form with half-hidden lust. Well, no…he could not disagree that it wasn’t good for him. Sexual assault was an unforgivable crime in lashran society, but with a lifebearer looking the way Vurkanan did in their midst, what were the chances that one of those sires might try something they oughtn’t try?

With that horrifying thought, Lythas made a decision. “He should stay with us, Tsabrak.”

Tsabrak coughed and stared at him. “Lythas…I must strongly advise against that…do you want him trying to seduce your son?”

Lythas wasn’t comfortable with that thought, but he stood his ground. “I refuse to leave someone in a situation like his, when I might have prevented it. I do not see a single other lifebearer on that ship, nor do I see any human women. How would you feel if your sibling were raped by his crew?”

Tsabrak opened and shut his mouth before finding his tongue.

"You know how rare that is amongst lashran, don’t you?"

"But it is not unheard of," insisted Lythallendar. "It _does_ happen, Tsabrak. Look at him, and look at the way his crew’s eyes follow him.”

Tsabrak _did_ look, and his groan of frustration wasn’t lost on Lythallendar. The lifebearer decided to close the deal. “My men have no care for lifebearers, Tsabrak. He would be safe from any possibility of assault, traveling with us.”

The sire heaved a sigh and nodded. He started to call out to his sibling, but he didn’t get the chance. Vurkanan had perched himself precariously on the railing of his ship and he was calling out to speak with Lythallendar—proof that he was aware whose ship he’d been trailing.

Lythas gave Tsabrak a puzzled look before leaning over the railing to shout, “I am Lythallendar. Why have you been following us?”

“Several reasons,” the other replied with a smile as he gazed at Lythas curiously, “One of which is to see if you can tell me where my sibling, might be found. I have news for him that is most important, and I must admit, I wanted to see you face to face. May I come aboard?”

“Yes, you are welcome on board. Tsabrak is here as well,” Lythas answered. He gestured at the sire in question, who stepped out from behind the mast and gave Vurkanan a tired wave of greeting.

Vurkanan seemed relieved. “Excellent! Here I come!” And with that, he simply vanished with a flash of light. No words were spoken, no hand motions were cast, but he popped up right beside Lythas from thin air.

“You really are a pretty one,” the silver-haired lifebearer said, tweaking a strand of Lythallendar’s raven locks, “Exotic…I see now why my brother is so enamored with you.”

Lythas jerked in startlement and nearly fell, but Tsabrak steadied him. Aurora stepped protectively between her father and the strange lifebearer, crossing her arms over her chest. Vurkanan’s delicate lips rounded.

“Ah, this must be the daughter! My, she does look like you, but I think she takes after your mate. She doesn’t seem to have your gentle demeanor, my friend.”

“How much have you told your crew, Vurkanan?” questioned Tsabrak, fed up with the formalities, “how much about Lythallendar’s children do they know?”

The lifebearer raised his eyebrows. “Surely, you don’t think I’d be foolish enough to tell them everything? Give me a bit of credit, Tsab.”

“What do they know?” demanded Tsabrak. His golden eyes were flashing dangerously, and Lythas squeezed his arm to calm him.

Vurkanan sighed. “They know nothing about their origins. All they know is that we’ve been following an old friend of yours who might know your whereabouts. I wanted to tell you that your suspicions were correct. Our people are plotting ways to take back the lands that once belonged to us. Given their restlessness, I thought it prudent not to mention that we can cross-breed with humans. I didn’t want to give them another excuse to go after them, you see. I quite like humans.”

Tsabrak relaxed visibly. “I’m thankful that for once, you’ve kept your mouth shut when it was important.”

~xox~

Lyre spoke up then, confused by what he was hearing. “But, how can the lashran hope to overcome the humans? They are outnumbered, and from what Father has told us, they don’t even like to use weapons.”

Vurkanan’s pale eyes latched onto him, and the young sire gulped, unable to stop staring. Tsabrak had told him to keep his head, but it was very difficult to do with so much of Vurkanan’s creamy, bronze flesh beckoning him, and the lifebearer’s face was breathtaking.

“You don’t think that Nandar is the only Lashran nation on Wyndrah, do you?” said Vurkanan softly, “We are simply more isolated and spread out than humans. Nandar is probably better known in your parts due to location, but Rhuidhim boasts the most advanced medicine in the world, and Zarn is home to some of the most powerful men you could ever hope to meet. As for weapons, the Council elders at home are speaking of bringing back the ancient ones…the ones that nearly obliterated the human population of Avras, an age ago.”

"But why _now_?” sputtered Lythas. “What has given rise to this bloodlust, after so many years of peace?”

Tsabrak put his hands on the hybrid’s shoulders and rubbed them soothingly. “I believe it started with the last plague that wiped out so many Nandarians. Humans brought it, as you know. There is that, and the occasional lifebearer running off with a human explorer. Our people are frightened, Lythallendar. As I’ve said before, they fear for their existence.”

“So their answer to this fear is to start a war?” asked Morgan, disbelief painting his young features.

Vurkanan shrugged. “That remains to be seen. I do not think my people are so irrational with fear that they’d do something as barbaric as start a war, but I think the human settlements on the islands near Nandar could be in danger. When I left, the elders were meeting with representatives from those settlements. I believe they intend to ask them to leave and return to Avras or Ocathia, but I suspect they won’t readily comply.”

Vurkanan staggered a bit, and it was evident that he was exhausted. Lyre automatically reached out and put his arm around him for support, flushing at the contact of skin on skin. The lifebearer smiled thankfully at him and put his hand on his chest.

Tsabrak cleared his throat and pulled his sibling off of young Lyre, ignoring the pout Vurkanan threw at him. He spoke in a subtly warning tone. “You’re tired. I think you should go below and rest up.”

Lythas nodded in agreement. “Yes, in fact, you should stay with us. Send your crew back to Nandar and instruct them to report that you are staying with Tsabrak.”

Vurkanan leaned against Tsabrak wearily, and the sire squeezed him instinctively in brotherly concern. “Are you certain? I can cause quite an uproar, given half the chance.” He gave Lythas a mischievous, if tired grin. “I can’t seem to help it, you see.”

Lythas nodded. “Yes, I am certain. We have the room for you, and I’d feel much better knowing that you are with us. It isn’t safe for you to be alone with so many sires.”

Vurkanan blinked, his silver lashes fluttering as he absorbed this. “And what of your men? You do not think it dangerous to travel with so many human males?”

Lythas smiled and replied, “Oh, I believe there is nothing to worry about with these particular humans. They all like women, you see. I made certain of that.”

When the other lifebearer cast a meaningful glance at Lythallendar’s pretty daughter, his grin widened, “They would be missing some parts if they tried anything with Aurora, and they all know that.”

Looking at the easy, predatory grace that the young woman moved with, Vurkanan nodded. “Very well…if you are certain, I will be happy to travel with you. Do you have any objections, sibling?” he looked up at Tsabrak as he spoke.

“Would it matter if I did?” the sire growled.

Both Lythas and Vurkanan smiled, and Tsabrak sighed. This journey had the potential to drive him insane, before it was completed.

~xox~

-To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

Lythas recognized the dazed look in his son’s eyes as he watched Vurkanan descend with Tsabrak to the lower deck, and he pursed his lips.  He understood, of course.  Lyre was sexually mature, and this was his first time to see a lifebearer other than his father.  Lythas had to admit that Vurkanan was beautiful to look at, but he suddenly felt ill at ease. 

“Lyre, can I speak with you for a moment?” he requested. 

It took his son a moment to snap out of it, and the lad nodded and followed Lythas to a more secluded area of the ship.  Aurora watched them go, and the look in her eyes said she guessed what they were going to talk about and she thought it was about bloody time.  Lythallendar had a tendency to view Lyre as a child, being as he was the youngest.  This talk was long overdue.

“What is it, Father?” questioned Lyre when they were alone, though by the blush spreading on his cheeks, he knew what Lythas wanted to say.

The lifebearer studied his son carefully, and a smile lit his fair features.  “Pretty, is he not?” he said, making the lad blush deeper.

“I…wasn’t expecting…he’s just so…so…” Lyre stammered, at a loss to explain his feelings.

Lythas laid his hands on his son’s shoulders and smiled up at him. “I think ‘appealing’ is the word you are looking for, youngling.  Don’t worry yourself over it…your feelings for him are natural.  I simply want you to be careful.”

Lyre looked startled. “Why?  He doesn’t look dangerous.”

Lythas frowned slightly, “Not physically, no.  I just do not want him leading you around by the nose, the way your sister does with poor Morgan.  I should have had this talk with you ages ago, but I just didn’t see how much you’ve grown until Vurkanan came on board.”

A bit accusingly, Lyre said, “Why do you want to have this talk _now_?  You _do_ know I’ve experimented a bit before, don’t you?  I’m not completely ignorant about these things.”

Lythas lowered his gaze and made little patterns on the deck with the toe of his boot.  “Well, you are a sire.  I…suppose I had trouble relating to you.  We have essentially the same ‘parts’, but our emotional needs can be vastly different.  It is difficult to have this discussion with you, even now.” his cheeks were stained with red deeper than Lyre’s were, and the young sire chuckled in spite of himself.

“I’m sorry, Father…that never occurred to me.  I suppose the fact that I look so much like Sire is also a contributing factor.”

Lythallendar bit his lip and nodded, looking up at his son with pain in his emerald eyes.  “Just please, be careful.  I cannot tell you to ignore your instincts.  If something is going to happen between you and Vurkanan, it will happen.  I do hope that you will try to keep your wits about you, though.  Don’t lubricate either of you with his seed, should you bed him.  An unplanned pregnancy can make life difficult.”

Lythas knew this better than most, as he had conceived Aurora while at the mercy of a fertility cycle, and his passion blinded him to all caution.  Coren panicked when he found out and he turned Lythas away.  It was only after Lythas had joined Tsabrak’s crew and sailed away that Coren realized his mistake and went after him to make amends.

Lyre nodded, still blushing but attentive.  “I understand, Father, though there are still some things I don’t completely understand.  Tell me, does a lifebearer have to be in his seasonals to become pregnant?  The books I read were rather vague on some of it.”

Lythas shook his head.  “No, but the chances of fertilization are much greater when a lifebearer is in season. It is a receptive state, whish makes a lifebearer’s body more accommodating to a newly conceived life.  That is why I want you to be careful.  Some lifebearers are more fertile than others are.  I think if Coren had been lashran, I might have had more children than I did.” he gazed off into the horizon and sighed.

“There is something else troubling you, Father…what is it?” Lyre questioned, putting his hand over Lythallendar’s smaller, much paler one.

Lythas gave him a tender smile.  “You can always tell, can’t you?  I suppose I can tell you, but please, do not say anything to your sister, just yet…she may not understand,” he took a deep breath and finished, “Tsabrak has asked that I bond with him in Vashekna.”

The Lifebearer gave his son a furtive look, expecting to see anger or denial on his features.  He was surprised when Lyre smiled hugely.  “Really?  Oh, Father…that is wonderful!  Did you accept?”

A bit shocked at his son’s happiness, it took Lythas a moment to gather his thoughts and speak.  “Well, I have been considering it.  I wanted to see how you and Aurora felt about it, first.”

Lyre took his Father’s face in his hands and gazed into his eyes with a serious expression.  “Father, what Aurora and I think about it isn’t nearly as important as your happiness.  You’ve been so lonely, and Tsabrak seems to be doing some good for you.  You’re alert again, and you haven’t had any fits since that night at the Inn.  I truly think it would be best for you, but what I want the most is to know that you are getting what you want…do you understand?”

Tears brimmed Lythas’ eyes as he stared up at his son and nodded.  At that moment, the lad was so mature, and so much like Coren.  “I…I do want someone to share my life with again…someone to hold me at night,” he said tremulously, “yet, I fear that I cannot give Tsabrak the love that he deserves.  I still miss your sire so badly…what if I am incapable of loving anyone else?”

Lyre hugged him close and murmured encouragingly to him.  “That you care enough about Tsabrak to worry over it proves to me that you’re wrong about that, Father.  I think you could come to love him very much.  You should go to him as soon as possible, and tell him your decision.”

~xox~

“That Lyre is quite the attractive young buck,” commented Vurkanan with a yawn as his sibling tucked him into the bed.

Tsabrak went still, and he looked at Vurkanan with hooded eyes. “That Lyre is off-limits to you.”

Vurkanan gave him an indignant look.  “And why is that?  Is he promised to anyone?  Bonded?  Married?”

Tsabrak sighed and shook his head.  “He’s none of those things, you silly fool.  He is off-limits because he is an innocent, who’s likely never experienced love or lust.  I don’t want you confusing him with your wiles.”

Vurkanan pouted.  “How unfair of you, sibling of mine.  Has it ever occurred to you that I might be looking for that special someone?  I know I tease sires an awful lot, but it is how I filter out the bad stock from the good.  Consider it my screening process.”

Tsabrak snorted and narrowed his amber eyes at his brother.  “Aye, and those you filter out as ‘unworthy’ are often left broken hearted and unfulfilled.  Your screening process, as you put it, is cruel.  I am warning you, Vurkanan…I look at Lyre as a son, and I love his father with all my heart.  If your intentions are genuine, you’d best begin making some changes to your current behavior and wardrobe.  Either tone it down, or leave Lyre alone.  He’s a sweet lad and deserves a good mate.”

Tsabrak regretted his words immediately when he saw the blatantly hurt look on Vurk’s pretty face.  “You think I am a whore, then?”

“No…I misspoke.  I know you aren’t as promiscuous as you act, but I don’t want you to unthinkingly hurt the lad.  Don’t pursue him out of boredom, understand?”

Vurkanan looked away, and Tsabrak could see that the younger Lashran was angry by the way his lips were pressed together.  He sighed.  “What?  You’d better tell me what it is this time, Vurk.  I am in no mood to play the guessing game to figure out what I’ve said to make you so angry.”

Vurkanan sniffed, “It isn’t you, exactly.  I am simply tired of society trying to tell me how to behave.  Why must our people put such pressure on us, and why must societal constraints differ so greatly between sires and lifebearers?  Some of us aren’t interested in living a life full of screaming babies and submission, you know.  I wish to see the world, and perhaps one day bond with a mate of my _own_ choosing.  Is that so blasted unreasonable?”

Tsabrak shushed his sibling as his voice rose a notch.  “Easy, Vurkanan.  Your quarrel is with our society, not with me.  I have nothing against you living your own life; I’m simply not endeared to the reputation your choices bring with them.  I’m your older brother and it is practically ingrained in me to be protective of you.”

Being a bit rebellious of lashran ways himself, Tsabrak felt that he was finally getting somewhere closer to understanding his sibling, now that Vurkanan finally let it out.  He stroked Vurkanan’s soft, silky hair and smiled at him.  “You should share your thoughts with me more often, little brother.  I had no idea they were so complex on the issue.  I just thought you were behaving as a brat out of boredom.  Try not bite my head off for doing what big brothers are meant to do, would you?”

“My apologies,” the younger lashran sighed, hiding his face in his pillow so that his words were muffled, “I am tired.”

“Yes, that you are.  If you want to continue this conversation after you’ve rested, I’ll be happy to,” Tsabrak replied.

Vurkanan nodded and waved a hand blindly through the air in dismissal.  Shaking his head at his sibling’s quicksilver moods, Tsabrak left the cabin.  Once he was in the hallway, he leaned against the door and crossed his arms over his chest in thought.  Was that the impression he was giving Lythallendar…that he wanted him to be a mindless breeder? 

He had told him that he wanted children, and that was true, but little ones weren’t the reason he wanted Lythas for himself.  Did Lythas know that, or did he, like Vurkanan, feel that he was expected to live life in some sort of half-slavery?  The thought was a troubling one.  Lythallendar was the only lifebearer he had ever met that he could connect with on the level that he did, and he didn’t want that to get spoiled by misspoken words.  Perhaps he should make it clear to Lythas that he wanted him first, and children only second, if the lifebearer was willing to give them to him.

~xox~

“You cheated!” Aurora accused, pale blue eyes snapping at Morgan.

He frowned and replied, “You can’t cheat at chess, ‘Rora…it just isn’t possible.”

She gracefully set her booted feet atop the table, scattering game pieces all over the floor.  The young sorcerer sighed and bent over in his chair to begin picking them up.  He froze as one of her booted feet rested on his shoulder. “’Rora,” he said, “What are you doing?” he winced as the heel of the boot dug into his shoulder blade a bit.

“It’s quite comfortable, actually.” She grinned down at him.  “You make a good footstool.”

She gave a little shout of surprise when he straitened quite unexpectedly, making her precarious, leaned-back position worse.  Her chair fell over backwards with her in it, and she groaned as her head hit the floor.  She suddenly saw two Morgans staring down at her in concern.

“Aurora…I’m sorry!  I didn’t mean for you to fall…I was just trying to get your foot off of my back,” he stammered as his sensitive fingers gently probed the back of her head.  She yelped when they pressed into the bump that was forming, and he winced and pulled her into his lap so that he could examine the damage.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she snapped, struggling to get up. 

“Be still, you little beast!  I’m trying to see how badly you bumped your head.”  His fingers grasped her neck to hold it still as his other hand parted her hair and searched for the bump. 

He shifted uncomfortably as her bottom pressed against his lap, and Aurora suddenly went still—not out of any desire to make things easier for him, but because she could feel his arousal pressing against the back of her thigh through their clothes.  The effect it had on her was powerful and almost instant.  She sucked in a sharp breath and tried to quell her hybrid appetites. 

Morgan gave her a worried look as he gently examined the bump on her head.  “It’s not as bad as I thought,” he said with relief, “I’ll make a cold compress you can hold to it.”

She turned to look into his eyes, and he looked back at her uncertainly.  “Are you mad at me?”

Then he gasped, for her mouth was moving against his with unabated hunger, and her fingers were pulling at the fastenings of his guild robe.

~xox~

“Um…’Rora,” he managed to stammer as she nipped his jaw line.  Morgan distinctly heard the sound of rending cloth, and he felt the cool, damp ocean air against his chest. 

He made a sound that was almost a squeak as her hand fell into his lap and began to rub the hardness there.  If he had known this was coming, he might have been able to react to it…as it was, he was taken completely by surprise.  She shoved at his shoulders, and he dazedly lay back on the floor.

“I th-think that bump to y-your head is making you a little-“ he started to say, but her tongue was plunging into his mouth again, and she made feline sounding purrs in the back of her throat as she reached beneath his robes and worked at the drawstrings of his breeches.

~xox~

That was how Lythas found them when he entered the room; his daughter was straddling the hapless sorcerer, tearing at his clothes while he asked in confusion if she was all right.  Lythallendar stared with round, green eyes as his daughter tried to ravish Morgan. 

“Aurora!” Lythallendar cried, at a loss for words beyond her name.

She came to her senses at the shocked tone of his voice.  Slowly, blinking as if coming out of a trance, she lifted herself off of Morgan and faced Lythas with a look of acute guilt on her features. 

“I…don’t know what happened,” she said tremulously to her father as he tilted his head and stared at her.  “I just had to…I don’t know…all the sudden, I needed…” she gulped as the painful heat continued to throb within her, and her seafoam eyes shifted back to Morgan’s disheveled form of their own accord.

Lythas knew well enough what the matter was, and he carefully stepped forward and took Aurora into his embrace.  “It is okay, dear one,” he murmured as she trembled and hugged him back, “Come…I shall take you to your room.  There is a tea I can brew to ease this.  Tsabrak showed me, long ago.  Do not fret…I told you about this…remember?”  She nodded wordlessly, avoiding his eyes.  “You aren’t at fault, youngling.”

“Will she be alright?” questioned Morgan as he staggered to his feet.  He seemed to believe that he was somehow at fault for her state.

Lythas nodded.  “Yes…she will be fine.  It is merely a stage.  You aren’t hurt, are you?” he glanced over Morgan’s form with faint concern.

“Yes sir…she didn’t rupture anything.”

Lythas nodded and smirked slightly.  “Very good.  I will take her to her cabin now.”

Morgan didn’t argue, having no idea what was wrong with the unpredictable young woman. 

~xox~

“There now…just try and relax, youngling,” Lythas whispered soothingly as he applied a cool, wet clothe to his daughter’s sweating face. 

She clenched her hands into fists and growled; “I don’t like this one bit…you never told me it would be this bad.” 

Lythas gave her a caring smile and held the cup of tea to her lips, coaxing her to drink from it.  “This will help.  It has gotten me through many seasonals without a mate.  Drink up, dear one.”

She took a sip of the tea and grimaced.  “Why can’t I just fuck him and get it over with?”

Lythas sighed and pursed his lips, calling for patience.  “Because, Aurora…you could get pregnant.  It isn’t the same for you as it is for me…conceiving a child does not require as many conditions to be met for you, and you have less control over it.  Unless you think you are ready to be a mother?”

She shook her head vehemently and gritted her teeth.  “No, I don’t want to be a mother.  Maybe I never will, but gods, this is like some horrible itch I can’t _scratch_!  Why don’t sires have to go through this?”

He stroked her dark hair sympathetically. “For the same reasons that human women have menstruation cycles, yet their men do not.  Your body does this so that you can have children.  I know you’re frustrated and hurting now, but don’t you think in the future you may want offspring of your own?”

She took a long pull of tea, nearly choking on it, and muttered; “Of course I ‘may want children’ later…at least, that’s what everyone keeps telling me.  This is just damned inconvenient.  It’s bloody unfair, is what it is!”

Her ire rose further as Lythallendar chuckled at her choice of words.  “You think this is funny?  At least you can get some relief when yours happens, without worrying about getting with child because of it!”

Lythas sobered a bit and stroked her cheek.  “I know, Aurora.  And, I know how painful it can be.  If you feel that you cannot bear it, I shall send Morgan in here.  Your comfort is more important to me than morals, right now.”

She shook her head.  “No…I can’t risk…getting pregnant…not by a human…not what happened to you,” in a daze, she rambled on, and Lythas sighed at his own folly.  He should have hidden his grief better.  He worried that her fear might poison her chance to have a lasting relationship in the future.  He waited patiently for the brew to do its job, murmuring nonsense to his daughter and humming softly to her until she drifted off to sleep.

~xox~

Lythas was surprised to find Tsabrak out in the hallway when he left Aurora’s cabin.  “Are you feeling all right, Lythas?” the sire questioned anxiously, golden eyes searching his.

Lythallendar’s brows knitted in confusion. “Yes…why do you ask?”

Tsabrak seemed confused, now.  “Well, I smelled…that is…the scent was stronger here-“

Lythas interrupted him with a nervous laugh…he had forgotten that sires were sensitive to the scent of a lifebearer in heat.  “It isn’t me.  It is Aurora.  She tried to assault poor Morgan in the gaming room, and I came upon them while looking for you and put a stop to it before the damage could be done.”

“Oh!  I see.  Somehow, I didn’t expect that to happen to Aurora.”  Tsabrak cast a glance at the door.

Lythas nodded.  “Yes…I am relieved, actually.  It means that she may have children of her own if she wants to, someday.  I was beginning to worry about that.”

“How is she?”

“She is sleeping now.  I gave her that tea mixture that you showed me how to brew.  Hopefully it will stave off the discomfort until the cycle is finished.”

Feeling uncomfortable talking about Aurora’s sexuality, Tsabrak changed the subject.  “We’re nearing Valkyrie Falls.  We should be there by nightfall.  We passed right by some harbor patrol ships with no problem,” his golden gaze looked at Lythas with admiration, “it was quite clever of you, to make your little ship this way.  By outward appearances, it looks like nothing more than an innocent merchant vessel.”

Lythas flushed in pleasure and smiled.  “Walk with me?  I crave some fresh air.” 

Tsabrak gladly complied, and Lythas could see the question in the older lashran’s eyes as they went above deck and enjoyed the crisp, evening air.  Lythas felt the need to procrastinate, for some reason, though he had already made up his mind.  “How fares your sibling?”

“He’s resting.  Sleeping like a log, to be exact.  I wish I knew how he does that,” Tsabrak said ruefully, making Lythas chuckle.

~xox~

When they reached the prow of the ship, Lythas stopped and looked up at him, and Tsabrak dared not move.  He could see by the way the younger lashran was chewing his bottom lip that he had come to a decision.  Lythas took one of Tsabrak’s hands in his own and studied it, gently caressing the knuckles with the tips of his fingers.  The sire shivered at the sensation and tried not to let his impatience show.

“Tsabrak?”

“Yes, Lythallendar?”

“I spoke with Lyre earlier, and his words made sense.  He said that I need someone in my life, and he was right.  He also said that since you’ve come back, I have gotten better.  I believe he was right about that, as well.  If your proposal still stands, I think I would like to be bonded with you.”

When a huge smile split the sire’s face and he started to speak, Lythas raised his fingers to Tsabrak’s lips to still them.

“I cannot promise you that I will ever feel the same for you as I did for Coren.  I want you to understand that, before we enter this commitment.  I shall do my best to be a good mate, however, and will give you all of the affection I can spare.  You deserve that.”

His voice shook slightly with emotion as Tsabrak answered him. “I shall take whatever you’re willing to give me, and happily, my lad.  I have always wanted this; you have no idea how happy you’ve just made me!” 

He claimed Lythallendar’s lips in a passionate kiss.  He felt it when the smaller man’s knees buckled and he took advantage of the moment.  Lythas made a low sound of need, muffled against the sire’s lips.  He rubbed against Tsabrak as though he couldn’t help himself and the sire reflexively held him closer.  It had been so _long_ since he’d been with anyone, and even longer since he’d felt this way.  Tsabrak was dizzy with his passion.

Breathing heavily, Lythas pulled away from Tsabrak and demonstrated remarkable control. “Perhaps out here is not the best place to express our affection.”

Tsabrak’s breath was uneven as well, and he nodded.  “We…can wait until the night of our Vashekna, if you wish.  I don’t want you to feel as though I’m rushing you, Lythallendar.”  It was a difficult promise to make for him, seeing as he could barely _look_ at Lythas without wanting to ravish him.

Emerald fire flashed up at the sire, making his body tingle.  “I don’t know that I can wait that long, Tsabrak.  I know it sounds horribly naughty of me, but I need…you see, years of drinking that tea couldn’t compare to…you know,” he blushed furiously and averted his gaze.

Tsabrak smiled and traced the delicate line of Lythallendar’s jaw with his fingertips.  “Aye…I know.  Tell me what you want, Lythallendar.  I shall follow your lead.”

Lythas turned his face and kissed Tsabrak’s fingertips, enthralling him.  “Come with me to my cabin,” he whispered with bright, hungry eyes.

~xox~

Morgan felt obliged to tell Lyre what had happened between himself and Aurora.  Lyre was his best friend, and he felt incredibly guilty, even though he still wasn’t quite sure exactly what had spurred her burst of lusty behavior.  The sorcerer looked down from the crows’ nest, thinking perhaps he shouldn’t have climbed up here to tell Lyre.  It was an awfully long way down.  He gave his friend a furtive glance as he finished describing the events-ready to cast a levitation spell if the lashran looked angry enough to toss him off of the lookout.

Lyre chuckled and gave Morgan a light slap on the back, indicating that all was forgiven.  “It wasn’t your fault, Morgan.  It sounds like my sister went into a fertility cycle, and you happened to be there.  Nothing you did caused it.”

He was surprised when the young sorcerer’s face fell, and he asked him what the matter was.  Morgan shook his hair out of his eyes and answered with a shrug. “I was hoping that she had some feelings for me, I suppose.  Oh, I don’t like that she lost control like that…don’t get me wrong.  I just wish that her actions were spurred in part by actual desire, rather than my just being in the right place at the right time.”

Lyre gave his friend a thoughtful look, as though debating what he should say.  Shrugging, he finally answered.  “Morgan, Aurora _does_ care for you.  She is just afraid to admit it, after seeing what Father went through when our sire weakened and died.”

Though he understood, Morgan still felt that it was unfair for her to punish both of them for her fears.  “Does it make it easier for her to hurt both of us because of that?”

Lyre shook his head.  “Not at all, but one could never accuse Aurora of being reasonable…you should know that by now.  She has too much of our sire in her, and once she gets a notion, she clings to it like kudzu vine clings to latticework.  If you want my advice, you should turn the tables around on her.  Give her the cold shoulder and be aloof.”

Morgan looked at him, his hazel eyes swimming with uncertainty.  “But, what if she loses interest in me altogether as a result?  I don’t want to drive her away, Lyre.”

The lashran nodded in understanding.  “I know you don’t.  Think of it as reversed psychology.  Imagine you have a child who refuses to eat their vegetables.  Insisting that they eat them doesn’t always work, so you pretend that vegetables are bad for your health, and forbid them to eat them.  Generally, the child ends up sneaking veggies just to defy you, and you accomplish your goal.  Do you see what I am saying?”

Morgan raised his eyebrows at the young Sire.  “Aurora is no child, Lyre.  How do you know that pretending I want nothing to do with her will make her act?”

Lyre grinned.  “Because, the vegetable philosophy is exactly how Father tricked Aurora into eating spinach when we were young.  Trust me, if I know my sister, she tends to go for what she wants more, if she thinks it’s forbidden.”

Morgan burst into laughter, picturing a tiny Aurora thinking she was clever by stuffing spinach into her mouth while Lythas’ back was turned.  Now that Lyre explained it, the sorcerer thought it might be worth a try.  Two familiar figures caught the Bargel’s eye below, and he peered down at the deck to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.  A blush spread across his cheeks when he realized he wasn’t imagining things, and he began to step in front of Lyre in an attempt to block his vision.

“Morgan, what are you doing?”

“Nothing…just getting a better look at the sunset.  Don’t mind me.”

Lyre narrowed his green eyes suspiciously and pushed the young wizard out of the way so that he could see what Morgan was trying to conceal.  On the deck, his father was in a passionate embrace with Tsabrak.  The pair seemed to reluctantly break the kiss to say something to one another, and then they walked to the hatch leading below deck, holding hands. 

Lyre grinned at his friend.  “You thought that would upset me?”

Morgan shrugged.  “I wasn’t sure…I know Aurora would have jumped right out of the nest and tried to tackle Tsabrak, if she had seen it.”

~xox~

They were barely through the door before their mouths hungrily sought each other’s out.  Tsabrak drank in the elixir of Lythallendar’s lips and felt that he’d never tasted anything sweeter.  He tried to control his rising passion, not wishing to frighten the young lifebearer in his arms, but he had waited for so _long_ for this moment.  He groaned softly and cupped Lythas’ bottom, lifting the smaller man against him as he tasted the warm, slick heat of his mouth. 

Tsabrak felt a moment’s alarm when his bad ankle threatened to give out and send them both tumbling to the floor.  The closed door provided support and his back crashed against it, making his breath gush out across Lythallendar’s lips.  Green eyes gazed at him in concern, the lust in them dimming for a moment. 

“Are you alright?” Lythas questioned breathlessly.

Too impassioned to worry about it, Tsabrak nodded wordlessly and claimed the lifebearer’s mouth again-careful this time not to put too much weight on his ankle.  He guided Lythas towards the bed, pulling his tunic open impatiently so that he could work at the buttons of his brown shirt.  Lythas gave a breathy sigh as Tsabrak slipped the material down over his shoulder and worshipped the exposed flesh with his firm, eager lips. 

“Wait,” the lifebearer implored, pushing gently at Tsabrak’s chest.

Trembling, the sire obeyed, albeit reluctantly.  “Am I moving too quickly for you?” he gasped.

Lythas smiled, a flush spreading across his cheekbones.  “Yes and no…I want to see you.  I think I should like to be in control for a change.”

Tsabrak’s silvery brows furrowed, as he was unsure of what Lythas meant.  The lifebearer demonstrated his meaning as he slowly began to lift Tsabrak’s shirt, gazing up at him with passionate emerald eyes.  Tsabrak smiled in understanding and lifted his arms so that Lythas could pull his shirt over his head.  The garment fluttered to the floor, and the younger lashran stared at the naked, bronzed expanse of chest exposed. 

“You are like a sculpture,” Lythas breathed, lowering his dark head to kiss the hard muscles of the sire’s pectoral region. 

Tsabrak gently stroked the lifebearer’s hair and he tilted his head back in pleasure as Lythas’ soft lips caressed his chest.  Clever, elegant fingers teasingly slipped below the waistline of his breeches to knead the area above his pubic region.  Lythas slowly went to his knees and unlaced the garment, flashing a heated, emerald gaze up at him.

~xox~

Lythallendar quite enjoyed having this sort of control.  It was new to him, to be given the power to touch his lover at his leisure.  Tsabrak’s body was beautiful and toned, but it lacked the fine hair that his former mate’s had boasted.  It was different, to taste skin as smooth and silken as his own.  He kissed Tsabrak’s trembling, tight abdomen and pulled his trousers open, before sliding them carefully down the sire’s legs.  He could hear Tsabrak’s shaken gasps as he curled his pale fingers around the long, pulsing length of his flushed, swollen erection.  The member was nestled in a silken nest of silver hair that was slightly darker in coloring than the mane that tumbled down Tsabrak’s back, and aside from the aroused blush darkening the skin, it matched the rest of him in coloring.

Tsabrak looked down at Lythas with almost tortured amber eyes, and his thighs shivered tellingly with anticipation as the lifebearer stroked the insides of them with his fingertips.  Lythas kept the caress as soft as a butterfly’s wings against his skin. 

“Can I taste you, Tsabrak?” He questioned in a low, husky purr.

Tsabrak’s eyes popped open wide for a moment, then looked down at the alabaster face staring up at him inquiringly.  “Aye, Lythas…you may do that,” he said in a strained whisper, smoothing errant locks of raven hair from the lifebearer’s face with a shaking hand.;

The next sound that came out of Tsabrak’s parted lips was a helpless moan of pleasure as Lythas brought his mouth to the tip of his shaft and closed his lips about it.  The lifebearer carefully suckled the knob, running his tongue over the salty hole at the end, while his hand grasped the member at the root.  He felt the organ jerk slightly in his grasp, and he took more of it into his mouth, engulfing it halfway down.  He heard Tsabrak hiss through his teeth, felt his body become tense, and he briefly wondered if he was hurting him.  He remembered how good this treatment felt himself, but he had never performed it on a sire before, and he wasn’t sure how sensitive Tsabrak might be. 

His doubts were laid aside when Tsabrak vocalized his feelings on the techniques he was using.  “Gods, that feels _so_ good.”

Encouraged, Lythas pulled his mouth back, letting the organ slowly slide out of it, while suckling at the same time.  Another moan of pleasure was the last bit of permission he needed, and he began to steadily take the swollen length in and out of his mouth, keeping his lips tightly sealed around the girth of it. 

Tsabrak closed his eyes and gently thrust in time with Lythallendar’s ministrations.  He spread his legs a bit to give himself more support, as there was nothing nearby for him to grab onto besides Lythas.  He placed his hands on the smaller man’s shoulders and they trembled with his pleasure. 

“Lords of the forests…you are far too good at this…Lythallendar…I’m going to…oh…” he tried to warn him and he gently pushed at his shoulders to make him stop, but Lythas stubbornly sucked harder and moved his mouth faster up and down Tsabrak’s tightening cock.  With a last, helpless cry of ecstasy, the sire climaxed.

Lythas grimaced through the bitter, salty taste of the fluid that spurted down his throat.  He didn’t mind so much, however.  Feeling the organ buck in his mouth and hearing Tsabrak’s helpless groan nearly sent Lythas over the brink, himself.  Coren had never let him do this to completion…he supposed he had been trying to spare him the taste of it.  Lythas smiled gently up at the sire to let him know it wasn’t so awful.  His smile faded at the dazed look of relief on Tsabrak’s handsome features.  It aroused Lythas and made him feel powerful.

“Perhaps you should lie down,” suggested Lythas huskily as Tsabrak swayed slightly.  The sire blushed charmingly, making him grin.

“I believe I shall take that suggestion, sweet one,” Tsabrak said breathlessly, caressing Lythallendar’s face adoringly. 

While he lay down on the bed and recovered, Lythas went to the privy and rinsed his mouth out, cleaning his teeth with a stiff brush afterwards to get the last remnants of the bitterness out of his mouth.  “Forgive me, little one…I did try to warn you,” Tsabrak’s amused voice floated in from the bedroom. 

Lythas chuckled, “Yes, you most certainly did.  It was not that bad…truly.”

Tsabrak stared up at the ceiling and smirked, “I saw the look on your face, Lythallendar.”

The lifebearer peeked around the doorway, green eyes flashing with amusement and still unsated arousal, “It was worth it,” he paused and stared between Tsabrak’s legs, his dark brows lifting in surprise.  Already, the sire was hardening again.  “Does that happen often?” he questioned, a bit taken aback.

Puzzled, Tsabrak followed the emerald gaze to his stiffening penis, then grinned whitely and nodded.  “Aye, Lythallendar.  We sires recover just as quickly as lifebearers do.”

“Oh.”  The blush returned to Lythas’ cheeks in full, and his desire spiked again with the possibilities.  Being with a lover that didn’t require rest periods between orgasms would be a new experience for him.  He wasn’t quite sure how to behave, in fact.

Tsabrak must have picked up on his uncertainty, for he patted the bed in silent invitation, giving him a tender look.  “I will not hurt you, dear one,” he murmured as Lythas hesitated in sudden shyness.  He watched as the smaller lashran slowly approached the bed, noting the bulge in his trousers and the damp spot in that area.  “Let me give you pleasure, Lythas,” he encouraged, holding his arms out.

Lythas crawled onto the bed and came into his arms, trembling as Tsabrak finished unbuttoning his shirt.  Tsabrak’s breath quickened again as the pearly skin was exposed to his hungry gaze, and once the shirt was off, he bent his head and took one of the lifebearer’s pink nipples into his mouth and nursed it gently.  Lythas arched against him, pressing his hardness against the sire’s leg as he tangled his fingers into Tsabrak’s hair. 

Tsabrak pulled back for a moment, and Lythas opened his eyes and stared at him in disappointment.  The sire smiled gently and he pulled Lythallendar’s boots off slowly, one at a time.  Lythas snorted with laughter as Tsabrak tickled his exposed feet briefly. 

“Stop that!” he warned with a chuckle. 

Tsabrak grinned and slid his hands up Lythallendar’s legs, messaging the muscles all the way up to the thighs.  Lythas relaxed beneath the skilled touch, his long lashes fluttering as his eyes closed in pleasure.  Tsabrak undid the drawstrings of Lythas’ breeches and slid them off of him.  He grinned as the lifebearer bit his lip and blushed, keeping his eyes closed.

“You have nothing to be shy about, Lythallendar,” Tsabrak said truthfully as he scanned the young, lithe body appreciatively. 

Lythas cracked his eyes open and looked up at Tsabrak shyly as the sire drank in the sight of his nudity.  Tsabrak covered the lifebearer’s naked form with his own, kissing Lythas hungrily. 

Lythas parted his lips and allowed Tsabrak’s tongue to slide into his mouth and fence with his.  The sire’s kiss was patient and gently coaxing, while his hands stroked Lythallendar’s sides and hips.  He slid his knee between the Lifebearer’s pale thighs and parted them, reaching down with one hand to fondle the pink tipped, hard staff of Lythas’ arousal.  The lifebearer groaned softly in pleasure and bucked his hips eagerly at the touch, his lips feverish against Tsabrak’s.  He closed his eyes tightly as the sire began to stimulate the spot between the base of his shaft and his testicles to make him lubricate.  He willed himself to stop feeling guilt and just enjoy coupling with this man. 

Tsabrak stopped his gentle manipulations and gazed down at him.  Lythas opened his eyes and looked up at Tsabrak’s concerned features.  He didn’t realize he had begun to cry, until Tsabrak brushed aside the moisture at the corner of his eye with the pad of his thumb. 

“Lythallendar, we can wait for this part, if you are not ready for it.  I _do_ understand.”  Tsabrak’s expression was gentle and loving as he gazed down at him.

His patience worked as a soothing balm on Lythas’ raw feelings.  The young lifebearer knew that he could not make a new life with Tsabrak if he continued to feel that he was being unfaithful to his old bond mate by having intercourse with him.  Tsabrak began to lift himself off of Lythas, intending to give him release another way, but Lythas embraced him with his arms and his thighs. 

“Lythallendar?” murmured the sire cautiously, his tone laced with fragile hope.

“I must move on, Tsabrak,” whispered Lythallendar.  “Coren is gone, and I cannot start a new life with you if I live in fear of this moment.  Please, do not withdraw.”

Tsabrak kissed his cheek, then his nose, and finally, his lips.  His mouth was tender and loving and his tone was cautious as he responded.  “You are certain?”

Lythas clutched him more tightly and nodded, and Tsabrak braced himself on one elbow so that he could again begin stimulating him.  The lifebearer’s breath caught as the tingling sensation made his groin throb and caused his entrance to moisten and dilate slightly.  He stared up at Tsabrak unblinkingly as the sire carefully and almost reverently slipped a finger inside of him.  Lythas gasped and tensed up slightly, unused to the penetration after years of being alone.  Tsabrak kissed him tenderly and moved the digit around slowly,  until he relaxed somewhat.

“Oh,” Lythas moaned as Tsabrak slipped a second finger inside of him and moved them slowly and rhythmically.

Tsabrak trailed soft, sensual kisses along Lythallendar’s jaw line and neck as he patiently worked to prepare him.  When he added the third finger, the lifebearer’s eyes opened wide and his mouth went slack. 

Concerned that he was hurting him, Tsabrak whispered; “Tell me if it is too much for you, my Lythallendar.”

He caught Lythas’ eyes and held them with his own as he pushed his fingers deeply into him and found the spot he was looking for.

Lythas shuddered and moaned Tsabrak’s name as the sire stroked fires deep inside of him.  He licked his lips and began to hesitantly move his hips, his brows furrowed with a combination of pain and pleasure.  Tsabrak watched his expressions carefully, to judge when he was prepared enough for him. He had a very difficult time holding back…Lythas was so inviting and gorgeous, and the lifebearer had unconsciously spread his thighs wider and whimpered pleadingly. 

Ignoring his own need, he kept at his attentive lovemaking until he was certain that Lythallendar was ready for him.  Tsabrak carefully positioned himself and kissed him adoringly.  Lythas groaned against his mouth as Tsabrak slowly pushed his cock into the waiting heat of his body, reminding the larger man to take it slow.  Tsabrak held himself still within Lythallendar, closing his eyes in exquisite pleasure and trembling all over. 

“Oh, I love you, Lythas,” he gasped shakenly, pulling back slowly before tenderly invading him again.

Lythas arched his back and moved restlessly beneath him as Tsabrak began to thrust with excruciating slowness and care.  He whimpered when the sire rose up slightly to curl his fingers around his erection and stroke it just as patiently.  Tsabrak kissed the smaller lashran’s trembling lips, taking his time with his lovemaking, and Lythas clutched at him and moaned breathlessly.  The sensations were maddening in their intensity.  Tsabrak was careful to allow him to feel every inch of his arousal, from root to tip, and he gripped the base of Lythallendar’s penis each time it seemed that he was about to climax, to stall his release.

Tsabrak stared down at Lythas and studied every delicious expression of pleasure that spasmed across the lifebearer’s exquisite features.  Lythas began to pant heavily and his emerald gaze stared into Tsabrak’s as he found a voice for his frustration. 

“Wh-why…torture me?”  Lythallendar ended the sentence with a soft cry as Tsabrak again slowly pushed deeply inside of him, hitting that spot that made his whole body jerk. 

The sire nibbled Lythas’ earlobe and purred as he gave his breathless answer.  “Because I want…your release…to be more intense.”  

He smoothed aside the glossy black strands that were plastered to the lifebearer’s forehead, resisting the temptation to give in and let him orgasm sooner.  Tsabrak realized his teasing of Lythas was going too far when the lifebearer started to cry out with every breath and rotate his hips mindlessly.  He didn’t change his slow, gentle thrusts, but he decided he would take pity on his young lover and allow him to reach his peak.  He kissed Lythas tenderly as the lifebearer hollered hoarsely and spilled himself in his hand.  His own release swiftly followed, spurred on by the massage from his companion’s squeezing sheath.

“Oh, Tsabrak,” Lythas gasped weakly, clinging to the sire.  He felt the hard length inside of him buck, and he felt his warm seed spill, and yet the sire did not stop his lovemaking.  With a soft groan of pleasure, Tsabrak kissed Lythas hard as he came, and resumed his steady, gentle rhythm.

Lythallendar was beside himself with surprise and confusion.  Tsabrak had barely even softened within him, and soon became just as hard as before.  His quickened again and he sighed in pleasure. 

“Do you want me to stop?” whispered Tsabrak, mistaking Lythas’ sigh for one of exhaustion. 

The lifebearer shook his head vehemently, and his cock stiffened against Tsabrak’s belly again. 

“I love you,” Tsabrak murmured for the second time, nuzzling Lythas’ hair. 

Lythas accepted the endearment, putting aside vague feelings of guilt so as not to ruin the moment.  He caressed Tsabrak’s body and undulated beneath him as the sire demonstrated his lovemaking skills.  It didn’t take very long for his efforts to push Lythallendar toward the brink again.

“Gods…it feels so good,” Lythas groaned, fingers digging into Tsabrak’s back. 

He never knew that such a slow, continuous pace could be so stimulating, and the sire’s clever mouth was making his head spin with kisses that conveyed Tsabrak’s love for him.  Lythas tensed up again and let his breath out in a rush as he orgasmed.  He started to lose count of how many times the two of them climaxed, and he had no way of knowing how long Tsabrak tenderly made love to him before they both finally collapsed with fatigue. 

They had just caught their breath and sponged their slick bodies off when one of the shipmates knocked on the door and announced that they were docking in Valkyrie Falls.  When Lythas inquired about the time, his green eyes went round and big. 

“Half past midnight?  Are you certain?”

Through the door, the crewman said that yes, he was certain, and could they come up and give instructions to the others, please?

Lythas finished dressing, his entire face as red as a beet.  Tsabrak smiled adoringly at him. “What is it that makes you blush so, Lythas?”

Lythas chuckled bashfully, “You don’t know?  We made love for over two hours!!”

Tsabrak looked puzzled.  “This surprises you?  My sweet one…I’ve hungered for you since the day we met, and you’ve gone without for over four years now.  If you hadn’t begun to fall asleep, I would still be making love to you as we speak.” His smile took to his ears as Lythas’ jaw dropped.

~xox~

-To be continued


	4. Chapter 4

“Oh, no!”

Tsabrak stopped at the worried tone in Lythas’ voice.  “What is it?”

“My daughter…she should be waking up from the tea…I must hurry and give her another dose!”

Before Tsabrak could do or suggest anything, Lythas bolted back towards the hatch leading below deck.  Tsabrak frowned after him, wondering if it was safe to follow.  By the way Lythas was worrying over it, Aurora wasn’t dealing well with her seasonals at all.  Lythas nearly ran over Vurkanan, who was emerging from below and stretching.

The silver haired lifebearer wore a confused look on his fair face as Lythas ran past him, and he turned to Tsabrak with a question on his lips. 

“His daughter,” explained Tsabrak, “She’s in her seasonals, and she isn’t doing very well with them.  I’d like to help, but given the way these cycles tend to affect the average lifebearer, I doubt that would be a wise move, on my part.”

Vurkanan nodded.  “Wise choice, sibling of mine.  Perhaps I should go in your stead?  At least if she rips my head off, we’ll know it was out of genuine dislike and not sexual frustration.” he winked and grinned.

Tsabrak pondered this, realizing that here was a chance for his sibling to prove himself useful.  “Yes…that is actually a good idea.  Perhaps you can offer to watch over her while we take care of business here.”

Vurkanan sighed, but he shrugged good-naturedly.  “Whatever you think is best.  I was rather hoping to see what sort of entertainment they have in this city, as I’m studying humans, but if it will help-“

“Yes, yes…it will help…now, get down there, and for the love of Wyndrah, put on some decent clothing.  Your crotch is practically falling out of your breeches.”

Vurkanan childishly stuck his tongue out at his older sibling, before going to do his bidding.

~xox~

Vurkanan chuckled at Tsabrak’s expense, once he was out of earshot of his older sibling. It was all just in fun, and he couldn’t see the problem with showing off his body for his own sense of expression, rather than the benefit of sire onlookers.  Of course, if he were ever to get pregnant, he’d be sure to wear more modest attire.  Vurkanan didn’t think it would be particularly attractive to go around in his typical state of dress whilst swollen with child. 

He sniffed the air and followed the scent down the hallway.  After a few steps, he found that he really didn’t need the smell of Aurora’s condition to guide him…the lass was making enough noise for a blind drunk to follow.  He peeked through the doorway to find an interesting scene.

“I don’t _want_ it!” Aurora complained, shoving her father’s hand aside as he tried to give her the cup of tea, “I want Morgan!”

“But darling, you said earlier-“

“I know what I said earlier, and I lied!  I can’t stand it anymore…it _hurts_!” she started to cry, and Lythas held her tightly and stroked her hair.  “Make it go away, Daddy,” she whimpered, using the human endearment in her pain.

Vurkanan paused at the threshold of the half-opened doorway, wondering if he should interrupt.  Never quite the practical one, he knocked softly and stuck his silver head in.  “Hello there.  I was wondering if there is something I might do to help?” he ignored the glare the young woman gave him from over her father’s shoulder. 

Lythas sighed, “I wish there was, but the only thing that we can truly do is wait it out, or give her what she claims she wants.”

Vurkanan entered the room and took the cup from the nightstand where Lythas had hastily set it.  He sniffed the brew and wrinkled his nose.  “Well, it’s really no wonder she does not want this…you did not sweeten it!  Horrible stuff, without some honey and peppermint.”

Lythas tilted his head.  “Oh?  Oh!  I completely forgot about that!  To think, I’ve been drinking it for all this time with only the herbal mixture!” he grimaced and gave his daughter an apologetic look.

“Not to worry,” said Vurkanan, “I’ve got my own batch in my chest, with a rather abundant supply of sweeteners.  I shall fetch them.”

Lythas gave Tsabrak’s brother a thankful look as he strode from the room, and then he turned back to Aurora.  “There now, you see?  Everything will be just fine.  Hold on a bit longer, darling.”

She moaned, clutching her father’s shirt so tightly that the material stretched.  Within a few short minutes, Vurkanan padded softly back into the room again, carrying a jar of honey in one hand and a jar of peppermint sticks in the other. 

“Here we are.  I’ll just mix this in, and I promise the tea will be almost pleasant.” He smiled disarmingly at Aurora, and Lythas was flabbergasted when she hesitantly smiled back. He had to admit that Vurkanan possessed an undeniable charm.

When Vurkanan finished mixing the sweeteners into the drink he took a small sip himself to test it, nodded, and handed it to Lythas.  Aurora looked from her father to the silver haired lifebearer a bit warily, before she put the cup to her lips and tried it.  Finding it bearable, she gulped the rest of it down and set the cup aside, then curled into a fetal position and groaned in frustration. 

Lythas looked up at Vurkanan.  “Thank you,” he said sincerely.

Vurkanan smiled and flipped some errant strands of hair back over his shoulders in a graceful gesture.  “Think nothing of it.  I know what it is like to have to choke that stuff down often…it is difficult when you have no mate to ease the pain.”

Lythas couldn’t stop the blush that stained his cheeks as his green eyes flicked over the revealing outfit the other lifebearer wore.  Today, it was a shimmering ensemble of delicate chain lengths, obviously meant for looks rather than protection.  It seemed to be made of a very light alloy, and it was deep blue in coloring.  It almost gave him the appearance of having glittering fish scales, and though it did not reveal as much flesh as the first outfit had, it fit him like a second skin.  The chest portion opened to a V that exposed Vurkanan’s nubile chest and stomach all the way down to the navel, and once again, the breeches dipped low.

Noticing the look, Vurkanan smiled.  “I’m not as naughty as I look, Master Lythallendar.  I simply enjoy sparkling.”

“I like it,” Aurora approved in a slightly slurred voice, drawing another smile from Vurkanan. 

Lythas waved it off as drugged babble and prayed that his daughter was not getting ideas from the outrageous outfit.  “Are you not worried about others trying to force themselves on you, when you dress that way?”

Vurkanan sobered a bit and sat down on the edge of the bed.  “The way I see it, if someone intends to do me harm, it matters little what garments I wear,” he explained, pewter eyes twinkling, “some folk don’t need the excuse of tight clothing to try and demonstrate power over others.  So why not dress how I choose?”

Lythas tilted his head and thought about this.  Though he still didn’t approve of Vurkanan’s style of dress, he had to agree with what he said.  He himself had come very close to being raped when he first came to the human lands as a slave.  He shuddered as he recalled the feel of the sweaty hands grasping his hips, and the fear and shame that wracked him even after Charlotte’s brother Pete intervened and killed his assailant.  Lythallendar had worn common clothes and done nothing to encourage the man’s advances.

Vurkanan noticed the troubled look on his face, and he spoke in a surprisingly gentle tone. “Have you had an experience that makes you so…so…umm…”

Lythas smirked in spite of himself.  “Paranoid?” he supplied helpfully.

Vurkanan tossed his head a bit and laughed.  The musical quality of the sound was quite pleasant, and the glass beads he had woven into his silver hair chimed in harmony with his voice.  “Yes…I was not going to choose that word, but you do seem a bit overly modest.  You are quite beautiful.  It is a shame that you hide yourself in such drab clothes.”

Lythas bit his lip.  “I do not mean any offence, but I simply cannot wear the type of garments you do, Vurkanan.  I should die of embarrassment from the first look I receive.”

Vurkanan nodded. “Oh, I wasn’t implying that you wear something as bold as _this_.  It doesn’t suit your personality at all.  But, would you be willing to try some designs?  I’ve got some ideas of outfits that would look stunning on you, and I’m sure you would like to please my sibling on your Bonding night, would you not?”

Lythas stammered and stared at the other lifebearer.  “H-how did you…”

Vurkanan leaned close, so that Aurora could not hear, and he whispered, “I heard the two of you groaning, last eve.  The room you put me in is right beside yours.  Besides, I knew my sibling was going to ask you eventually.  Tsabrak loves you more than life itself, you know.”

Lythas covered his face in his hands and groaned, wishing he could melt into the floor and disappear.  Vurkanan patted his shoulder and smiled. “How about you go onto land with your crew and help them take care of business?  I shall be happy to stay here and watch over Aurora for you.  I know when to give her the tea, and I’ll message her feet to relax her.  Would that be acceptable?”

Lythallendar looked warily at him, and Vurkanan laughed.  “I am a lifebearer, remember?  She will not have any interest in me, and even if she did, I have no interest in females.”

Lythas wasn’t so certain.  Humans generally did not prefer their own sex, but Coren had fallen in love with him and given him two children.  Aurora had complimented Vurkanan’s outfit, though she truly didn’t seem to have a sexual interest in him.  Lythas shook himself.  He was being overprotective and silly.  He would have noticed if there was any attraction between the two of them. 

“Very well,” he finally said, “I truly appreciate it.  We shall return within a few hours, and you should get a chance to see Valkyrie Falls before we set off for Tariff again…we will be here for a few days, yet.”

~xox~

“Where are Aurora and Vurkanan?” questioned Lyre to his Father as they helped to unload the supplies.  The true supplies were beneath piles of exotic fruits and vegetables.  Sorcery was outlawed in this part of the land, and Lythas was supplying illegal herbs and tinctures to the underground guild here.

“Aurora is staying in her cabin while we take care of this, and Vurkanan is watching over her,” Lythas explained as he went from one cart to the next and lifted the tarps to make sure anyone inspecting them would see only the false produce.

“Will she be all right?” Morgan asked in concern.  His young face was the picture of worry.

Lythas smiled at him fondly, and he gave him a little pat on the shoulder to let him know his concern was appreciated. “Yes, Morgan.  I would estimate that she will be back to her old, troublesome self within a couple of days.”

Lyre fell into step beside Tsabrak and cleared his throat a bit nervously.  “Sir?  Forgive me for intruding where it may not be my business, but I was curious about your brother.”

Tsabrak frowned and gave Lyre a wary look.  “Aye?  What would you like to know?”

The young Sire swallowed and hoped that he didn’t say anything wrong.  Provoking the dangerous pirate was the last thing he wanted to do, for all that Tsabrak was the most laid back person he had ever met.  “You warned me that he attracts a lot of…attention.  Is he spoken for?” Lyre blushed furiously as the older sire smiled at him.

“No, he’s neither bonded nor promised, more is the pity.  However, I would advise you to be careful of him.  You see Lyre, Vurkanan doesn’t truly mean to, but he has a tendency to make lads fall for him when he has no serious interest in them.  He toys with their hearts the way a cat toys with a mouse, and he doesn’t realize the damage he is doing until it’s already done.”

Lyre puzzled over this and inquired, “Well, how would I be able to tell whether he was truly interested in me or not?  You see, I was considering…that is…I get the feeling that he might settle down if…the right person were to…you know.”

Tsabrak gently pulled the younger lashran aside so that they could have a bit more privacy.  “Listen lad…I know that my sibling is quite becoming, but many others have tried to tame him.  I don’t want to see you get hurt.  Only one sire was ever able to come close, and he died ten years ago.”

Lyre lowered his gaze.  “How did the other sire manage to do it?”

Tsabrak studied the lad for a moment.  “Gileaus was stubborn.  He refused to give up on Vurkanan when the lad tried to turn him down.  He was also very demanding.  If you want to know the truth, I think he kept Vurkanan in line by keeping him in the bedroom as much as possible.  A sated lifebearer tends to be a more agreeable one.”

Lyre’s eyes went round and the blush already staining his cheeks grew deeper.  “Oh…I see,” he murmured.

Tsabrak laid his hand on Lyre’s shoulder and whispered, “You have the determination, at least.  I don’t think your nature allows for the same control that Gileaus had, however.  The best advice I can give you where my sibling is concerned is to keep your head, be yourself, and try not to fall too hard for him until you know he’s yours.  Understood?”

Lyre nodded, and his green eyes turned towards the ship where his sister and Vurkanan were.  He knew that if he should listen to anyone on matters concerning the silver-haired lifebearer, Tsabrak was it.  He could not stop thinking about Vurkanan, however.  It was faintly annoying, being as Lyre had been totally unprepared for the effect the lifebearer had on him.   

~xox~

Aurora woke from her doze to find Vurkanan fooling with something sparkly beside her bed.  “What is that?” she yawned, blinking her pale blue-gray eyes to focus on it.

The lifebearer gave her a brief smile before he turned his attention back to the string of semi-precious stones and glass beads that his delicate fingers were stringing.  “It will be a necklace, when I am finished.  I find it to be a pleasant hobby, to make trinkets and jewelry.  What do you think?” He held the half-finished necklace up for her inspection.

She gave the pretty thing a cursory glance and shrugged.  “It’s…nice,” she mumbled, falling back onto the bed. 

Vurkanan noticed how she winced, and he began to measure out a dosage of the special herbs for the tea into a dunker. 

“You don’t have to make it so strong, this time,” she said in a relieved tone, “I think it’s starting to go away.”

Vurkanan frowned at her, his brows furrowing in disbelief.  “So soon?  Why, your father said that you only began to have your seasonals yesterday evening!”

Aurora nodded.  “Aye…I did.  So?”

He shook his head.  “Well, it normally lasts for two days, and the discomfort doesn’t even begin to fade until the second day begins.  Your seems to be fading a whole day earlier!”

She shrugged, indifferent to the reason behind it.  “Maybe mine doesn’t last long as yours because I’m female.  I’m just thankful to be rid of the horrid condition.” she looked at the small, forgotten teakettle sitting on the little table in the room and she smirked.  “Are you going to finish making the tea, or do we want to wait around and see if it starts to get bad again?”

Vurkanan blinked, coming out of whatever deep thoughts he’d slipped into. “The tea, of course.  Just a moment.”  He got up and went to the kettle, speaking to her conversationally as he made up the tea.  “You know, you are very lucky, Aurora.  I would give _anything_ to be over a fertility cycle in just one day—even though it’s been some time since I’ve actually _had_ one.”

She sipped at the drink daintily when he handed the mug to her.  “So, what does your brother think about the way you dress?” she asked.  She didn’t know why, but she felt like talking to him.  Now that she had listened to him speak and learned a little something about his personality, she wasn’t hostiley inclined towards him.

Vurkanan grinned.  “Oh, Tsabrak is quite frustrated with both my behavior and my manner of dress.  Like most sires, he has a tendency to think that he knows what’s best for me.  I’m sure he means well, but I’m quite weary of our sire counterparts always insisting that we lifebearers need them to make big decisions for us.  They let their protective instincts turn them into overbearing pigs.”

Aurora snorted.  “Human men are the same way.  They think having a bulge in their crotch gives them superiority over women.  Even the ones that know damn well that I could beat them up easily patronize me, sometimes!  I loved my sire, but it always made me angry when he’d tell my father not to go out by himself past a certain time…and Father would just agree with him…just like that! _‘Whatever you think is best, Coren’_ , he’d say.  Bah!”

Vurkanan laughed.  “Yes, exactly!  They are so bossy!”

Aurora agreed and added, “And arrogant!”

“And they always assume that the moment you give them a smile-“ began Vurkanan.

They both finished the sentence together, “-you want to sleep with them!”

Both of them burst into laughter and regarded one another with a hint of amazement.  Neither of them had ever found anyone that they could connect with like this.  Aurora smiled; feeling that she had finally found that elusive thing called a “friend”.

“You know Aurora,” Vurkanan said with a mischievous glint in his eye, “when you recover, I think the two of us should explore the town…by ourselves.  I’ve always wanted to see what a human tavern was like, and it would be so much more enjoyable whilst in the company of someone who won’t hover over my shoulder like a nursemaid.”

She thought about it.  Lythallendar might worry a bit, but her father had never tried to tell her what to do…he merely made suggestions.  “I think you’ve got a drinking mate, Vurk,” she agreed with an adventurous smile.

~xox~

“Keep a sharp eye out, Lyre,” Lythallendar instructed his son once they made it through customs, “We are going to a rather dangerous part of the city to deliver this.  The sorcerers that we are doing business with do their best to keep their area clear of ruffians, but even they are hard pressed to do so in the slums.  You have your musket?”

Lyre nodded and pulled his coat aside, opening it enough for his father to see that the weapon was ready at his hip.

“I don’t understand,” whispered Morgan, “they outlaw magic, but not one _word_ was said about the swords and muskets and other weapons your men have on them.”

Tsabrak explained in a low voice, keeping his glittering eyes on the shadows all the while. “This is a religious region.  The deity they follow here supposedly pronounced magic to be the work of evil.  Only healing magicks are allowed, and only Clerics of Daunshra are permitted to use even that.  They have nothing against weaponry, but if you are caught violating the combat laws here, the penalty could be execution.”

The young Bargel shivered, suddenly very glad that Lythas had demanded he change into common clothing before disembarking with them.  He didn’t even want to think of what might have happened to him if the city officials had seen him in his robes.  “Why don’t the sorcerers just move to a place that doesn’t restrict magic use?” he questioned.

“Because this is their home,” explained Lythas.  “They are trying to change the laws so that they no longer oppress magic users.  The guild has politicians of its own.”

Morgan looked around with a grimace. “It doesn’t seem to be making much of a difference.”

Lythas nodded.  “True, in outward appearances, at least.  The changes come slowly, but they _do_ come and their efforts have made a difference.  The penalty for practicing sorcery used to be death, but now those caught doing so are allowed a fair trial, and often are sent to prison, instead.”

Lyre gave his father a surprised look.  “You’ve really studied this city carefully, Father.”

Morgan yawned hugely, and Lythas smiled at him.  “I know you are tired, youngling.  Once we get the cargo to its destiny, we should be finished quickly and we can return to the ship.”

~xox~

It took a further half-hour for them to make it to the more dilapidated part of the city.  Lythallendar led the way, with Tsabrak right beside him.  The sire kept his senses sharp and his hand on the hilt of his saber, ready to defend his lover if so much as a rat came too close to him.  Morgan nervously kept a tight grip on the hand held crossbow he had been given, looking uncomfortable with the weapon.  Tsabrak had instructed him firmly that he was not to use his powers unless it was a life or death situation.  By the look of him, Morgan might consider a cockroach crossing his path to be a threat to his life, right now.

They passed broken down houses and buildings, and they traveled through alleyways that were barely wide enough to allow for the carts.  After a bit, Lyre realized that his father was leading them straight to a dead end.  “Umm…Father?” he questioned as the lifebearer called for a halt.

Lythas threw a grin over his shoulder at his son, and the young sire felt his skin prickle.  There was that glint in his eyes again.  His father had certainly become more reckless and adventurous, since Coren passed away. 

“Just wait and watch,” Lythallendar commanded.

“What’s going on?” Morgan whispered in his friend’s ear as Lythas gave a shrill whistle that sounded suspiciously like an owl’s call.  Lyre shook his head helplessly, putting his hand over the handle of his musket as he scanned the shadows with his eyes.

Both young men nearly swallowed their teeth in startlement as men and women seemed to step right out of the walls, surrounding them. 

“Hold!” Lythas cried as his men raised their weapons defensively.  The pirates reluctantly obeyed, and Lythallendar approached a rather large man with dark skin and a shaved head, who stood in front of the dead end.

“I have brought what you requested, on time as promised,” said Lythas with a small, graceful bow.  Tsabrak stayed close to him, his golden eyes daring any of the people surrounding them to make a false move.  The man whom Lythas spoke to gave a quick nod towards a group of sorcerers to the left of them, and the pirates warily stepped aside and allowed them to dig deeply into the carts and inspect the goods.

“They’ve got all of it, Daniel,” said a blond woman after she received nods from each of the sorcerers who checked the merchandise.

The man’s dark face split in a grin, and he patted Lythas on the arm.  Tsabrak drew forward a bit, and Daniel took the hint and backed off a bit.  “Your bodyguard’s a little overprotective,” he muttered.

Lythallendar smiled.  “He is my lover, not my bodyguard…and of course he is overprotective…being surrounded tends to make one feel threatened, wouldn’t you agree?”

Daniel’s forked eyebrows raised for the briefest moment; the only sign of surprise that he would allow to show at the Lashran’s admission.  “I apologize for that, lad.  The city guard has been breathing down our necks lately, and we can’t be too careful.  The High Priest has people undercover looking for us, you see.  Had to be certain you hadn’t been sniffed out and forced to lead them to us.”

Lythas smiled in understanding, and Tsabrak relaxed a bit and gave the man a crooked grin.  “Nice trick, materializing out of the walls that way.  Your folk did it so quickly that I barely had a chance to sense the Working before you were all here.”

The sorcerer outlaw looked the Sire up and down.  “A magic user, are you?  You keep it hidden well,” his dark gaze snapped to Morgan, who took a nervous step back, “you boy…you don’t hide it well.  Your aura’s damn near blinding.  It’s a good thing the High Priest’s men don’t arrest people just for having the talent anymore.”

Morgan stammered and stuttered, unsure of whether he had been complimented or insulted…he had a feeling it was a little bit of both.

Daniel clasped his hands and rubbed them together.  “Well, I suppose we can get on with business, now.  If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you inside so we can finish this safely.”

~xox~

Lyre was surprised to learn that his father was being paid not in money, but in weapons.  Now he knew where the entire lightweight, advanced arsenal was coming from.  The rebel sorcerers led them straight through the wall of the dead end, and into a tunnel, which slanted down and went below ground.  Inside of a cavern beneath the city was a well-lit stronghold.  Row upon row of unfamiliar weapons ranging from harpoon cannons to strangely designed muskets were stored against the west wall.

“Take your time and choose which ones you want, lad,” Daniel said to Lythas, “Can I get your boys anything to drink?  We’ve got plenty of ale and a decent stock of wine, too.”

Lythas tore his gaze from a lovely water clock that had caught his attention.  “Yes, that would be good of you, Sir.”  He gave a polite bow.

“Lythallendar…I thought that these people were sorcerers,” whispered Tsabrak in the lifebearer’s ear.

Lythas looked up at him with a grin.  “Most of them are, but some are inventors.  It seems the authorities here do not take kindly to some of the weaponry they’ve created, and they’ve outlawed most of them.  They bring them here and sell them through the black market.”

He picked up a silver whip that looked as though it was crafted of chain links, but was light and well balanced.  Tsabrak grinned and almost said something suggestive, but upon seeing how the links in the whip would likely tear a man’s skin to shreds, he paled and kept his mouth shut.  No, games with that sort of whip would likely be too painful to enjoy.

Oblivious to his lover’s expression, Lythallendar examined the weapon with interest.  He had never quite gotten the handle on swords that he would have liked, but he was quite talented with wielding a whip in one hand and a dagger in the other.  Daniel noticed him inspecting it, and the sorcerer said, “That’s a beauty, there.  Does as much, if not more damage to a body than a sword stroke.  Would you like me to fetch the carrying belt that goes with it?”

Lythas nodded.  “Yes, please do.”

Daniel returned within a moment and showed Lythas how to fasten the belt.  Tsabrak had to fight of the urge to shove the man away from him, as the belt was designed as a holster, fitting around the thighs and coming up in the rear to connect to the belt portion, which fastened around the waist.  He certainly didn’t like watching another man strapping something onto his lover that required brushing their hands against his thighs and buttocks, and Daniel seemed to enjoy the job a bit too much for Tsabrak’s liking. 

_~”I’m acting like a boorish, overly possessive human,”~_ thought the pirate with a combination of amusement and irritation.  Lythas sometimes brought out the worst in him.

Daniel finished explaining how it worked.  “Now all you have to do is hook the clasp to attach it to your belt.  The weight of it holds it closed, and it’s easy to flip open when you need to draw the weapon.”

As Lythas did as the man indicated, Tsabrak commented; “You could keep two whips on you with that belt, if they are light enough.”

Lythas smiled as he settled his cloak into place and found that the weapon was easily concealed.  “It feels as though I am not wearing it at all,” he murmured in approval.

He continued to peruse the wares, picking up a collapsible staff for Aurora and a silver musket for Lyre before moving on to choose which weapons he wanted to bring to his shop to make a profit from.  Tsabrak noticed how Lythallendar’s expressive emerald gaze kept sliding to the ornate waterclock, which was designed so that a detailed, green and gold dragon was curled around the timepiece, sleeping.  He realized that his lover was avoiding spending credits on the clock so that he could finish getting what he needed for his shop.  Lythas likely would not have enough credits leftover to purchase it, once he was done.

When they were finished loading Lythallendar’s chosen merchandise into the carts and concealing them beneath regular weapons that was junk in comparison, the lifebearer exchanged handshakes with Daniel and thanked him.  “Tsabrak, are you ready?” Lythas questioned when the sire lingered as they began to file out.

“I need to make use of their privy, love.”  Tsabrak planted a soft kiss on Lythas’ mouth.  “I shall meet you outside.” 

~xox~

Lythas was just beginning to worry, when Tsabrak materialized next to him.  The lifebearer gasped, and several of his men aimed their muskets as Tsabrak before they realized who it was and lowered them.  “Oh, you do love to show off,” Lythas said petulantly, putting his hands on his hips.

Tsabrak chuckled and kissed the younger lashran’s pouting lips before answering with a wink. “Always, dear one.” 

Something heavy and hard bumped into Lythas’ side when his lover leaned over to kiss him again, and he stared at Tsabrak in puzzlement.  He didn’t see anything on him that could have accounted for the object, whatever it was, and Lythas began to wonder if he was going mad again.

They passed a rather rough looking bunch of people in the streets, but upon seeing how well armed Lythas’ party was, they left them alone.  Lyre breathed a sigh of relief when they made it to the ship without incident.  The men unloaded the cargo and Lythas went below deck to check on Aurora. 

Tsabrak used the opportunity to quickly go into the quarters they shared, and he closed the door behind him and lifted something invisible in his hands.  His long fingers worked at thin air as if untying strings while the other hand supported what appeared to be nothing.  The hand that had been making unfastening motions suddenly disappeared as it dipped into the area above the supporting hand.  Lo and behold, out it came with the very clock that Lythallendar had clearly wanted so badly.  Grinning hugely, Tsabrak placed the timepiece in the middle of the bed, then folded the bag he had enchanted up to replace it in his coat pocket.  Whistling, he left the room and went back topside to wait for his lover to return from Aurora’s room.

“You’re looking pleased with yourself, Sir,” commented Lyre when the pirate came on deck with a happy grin on his face.  With a quick glance around, Tsabrak whispered to the younger sire and explained that he had bought a gift for his father.  Lyre laughed in delight and murmured, “You do know my Father well, don’t you?”

Tsabrak shrugged.  “I noticed him eyeing it, and Lythas has never been one to spoil himself with impractical things, so I decided to do it for him.”

Any further conversation they might have had was cut off when Lythas raced up from below deck.  His emerald eyes were troubled as they sought out Tsabrak’s.  The pirate and Lyre hurried over to him to see what was the matter, and Lythas handed Tsabrak a note that he was holding in his hand.  Tsabrak opened it and read out loud.

_“Father,_

_I’m feeling much better now…it seems that the putrid condition I was cursed with only lasts for a short while on me.  Vurkanan and I are bored.  We’re going into town to see what the nightlife is like.  Don’t worry; we’ll be back before dawn._

_Love,_

_Aurora”_

Tsabrak grit his teeth and swore, and Morgan came hurrying over.  “What’s the matter?” the young Bargel questioned.

Lythas bowed his head and rubbed his closed eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “It seems my daughter and Vurkanan took it to their heads that waiting on the boat for us to return was not exciting enough.  They’ve gone into the city to entertain themselves.”

“Don’t worry, Lythallendar,” Tsabrak soothed, rubbing his lover’s tense shoulders, “I will go and find them.”

“I’m coming with you,” Morgan insisted, “Aurora might need help!”

Lyre nodded and added, “I shall come too.  Vurkanan doesn’t know humans half as well as he thinks he does, and my sister is just as reckless.” He looked at his father and saw how tired he was.  “Father, let us handle this.  You should get some rest.”

Lythas shook his head and chuckled, “I shan’t be able to sleep knowing that my little girl is wandering the city with someone who is just as stubborn as she is.  We shall all go.”

~xox~

-To be continued


	5. Chapter 5

“This place looks as good as any,” said Aurora as she and Vurkanan stopped outside of the Jolly Whistler Tavern.

Vurkanan slowly read the name and laughed in delight. “I do so love the descriptive names that humans come up with for their establishments. Shall we?” he held his arm out for the young woman as he had seen noble men do for their ladies.

Aurora chuckled and put her arm in his. “Let’s!” She found it hilarious the way people stared at Vurkanan in bewilderment. It took the attention off of her attire, for once. She usually received either disapproving glares or admiring, lustful stares, depending on whether the people looking at her were female or male. Her usual ensemble of leather breeches, a long-sleeved shirt and a vest was considered improper for her gender, in polite circles.

Vurkanan wasn’t a bit worried by the lewd looks that some of the men and even a few women gave him as he entered the tavern, so Aurora wasn’t concerned either. She figured if he thought there was danger, he would let her know. The two of them went straight to the bar, and the startled bartender looked from one to the other.

“Where are you from?” he questioned in bafflement. He narrowed his eyes at them suspiciously. “You aren’t wizards, are you? You’re both dressed strangely enough to be.”

Vurkanan replied, “No, we are merely two tourists passing through, who happen to be thirsty. We saw your fine establishment and we thought you might service us.” It was truthful enough: the man had asked if they were wizards, and Vurkanan formally called himself a sorcerer. Aurora had no magical talents.

The man still stared at them dubiously, and Aurora removed a gold coin from her money pouch and slid it towards him. “Is our money not good enough?” she said with a teasing smile.

Enchanted by both the young woman’s loveliness and the doubloon she offered, the bartender forgot his suspicions and smiled. “Oh, begging your pardon, Missy. What would you like? We’ve the finest wines and mead to choose from…I’ll get you a menu!”

Aurora rolled her eyes and shared a grin with Vurkanan. As usual, a male was trying to choose her drinks for her. “No, thank you. I think I’d like a shot of whiskey and a mug of dark ale.”

Vurkanan nodded. “Yes, that sounds wonderful. I shall have the same.”

The bartender gave them a strange look and said, “If you say so…might be a bit strong for the lass, though.” Seeing them both narrow their unusual eyes at him, he hastily turned and began pouring the drinks.

Though the liquor and ale were cheap and rather disgusting to the taste, both Vurkanan and Aurora defiantly choked them down and ordered another round each. Vurkanan started to whisper comments about some of the other patrons, making Aurora giggle helplessly.

“That man there could use a bib…isn’t he embarrassed at all that half of his drink spills down that ratty beard of his when he tips it to his lips?”

As Aurora nodded in agreement, a large, callused hand clamped down on Vurkanan’s shoulder. He turned and looked up at the owner in annoyance. He could have been considered a handsome man if it weren’t for the jagged scar running down his jaw and the cruel look in his grey eyes.

“Can I help you?” questioned Vurkanan in a polite but aloof tone.

The man leaned forward and breathed alcohol fumes in Vurkanan’s face as he answered in a rough whisper. “I know what you are…my old man used to sell your kind as slaves,” the hand on Vurkanan’s shoulder slid down his arm and onto his thigh insinuatingly, “I know you like cock, pretty lad. How about I show you what a real man can do for you?”

Aurora gave Vurkanan a questioning look and gripped her mug more tightly, and he winked at her to let her know he was okay. Blinking his long, silver lashes slowly to emphasize the unearthly color of his eyes, Vurkanan smiled up at the man. “I would be glad to see what a real man could do for me,” the lashran whispered seductively. “If you happen to see one, please inform me immediately.”

The man’s leer faltered. “Think you’re clever, do you?”

"More so than _you_ are.” Vurkanan sipped his drink with a grimace and spared the man a disdainful look. “Though I suspect that does not take much.”

Someone seated at a table nearby overheard the insult, and he snickered into his beer mug.

Angered now, the ruffian reached for Vurkanan’s shoulder as the lifebearer turned away from him, and he spun him around roughly. “I don’t take kindly to—”

The man’s expression of anger quickly scrunched up into one of surprised pain as Vurkanan unceremoniously grabbed the crotch of his pants and twisted brutally. With a howl of agony, the ruffian yanked the lashran’s hand away from his tender parts and fell to the floor, cupping himself in pain. Of course, bullies never traveled alone, and his friends came to his aid immediately when they saw what happened. Aurora counted three of them in all. One of them helped the swearing, scarred man to his feet, while the other curled his hand into a fist and growled, “That wasn’t very smart, freak!”

Vurkanan shrugged and poured his shot of whiskey into his mouth. Angered even more by the lad’s casual dismissal of his threat, scar-face’s friend started to take a swing at the too pretty face of the lifebearer. A feminine yet iron-strong hand blocked his attack in a carefully executed chop, numbing his lower arm. He stared in amazement as the raven-haired beauty beside the lashran bared her teeth at him in a feral grin.

"I don’t suffer fools gladly, but I’m always glad to make a fool suffer," she informed him. "Think you can take me?"

“You asked for it, wench,” he yelled, and he tackled Aurora right off of the barstool.

Their landing knocked the wind out of her momentarily, and he slapped her hard across the face. The slap brought her to her senses and enraged her. Cold blue eyes narrowed hatefully up at him, and as he started to lower his face towards her, Aurora snapped her head forward in a practiced move that Jack once taught her. The brute saw stars as her forehead slammed into his nose, breaking it instantly. While he was dazed, Aurora rolled him off of her and kicked him in the side.

The man who started the entire incident was still trying to recover from having his groin twisted by the little demon at the bar, but his other friend saw the trouble the girl was causing and turned to help the man struggling with her. He got two steps and felt someone tap him on the shoulder. When he impulsively turned and looked at Vurkanan, the lashran conjured a small flame in the palm of his hand and spat the liquor in his mouth out in a forceful spray. It combusted immediately, and to all witnessing, it appeared that he had just breathed fire in the man’s face. The man backpedaled, clutching at his singed face and patting at his clothing in a panic, and Vurkanan laughed as he tripped over a chair and tumbled to the floor.

Convinced now that the strange, silver haired boy and his sleek female friend were either demons or sorcerers, some of the patrons scrambled out of the tavern to seek out help from the city guard. The rest either moved to an area that was less likely to be caught up in the brawl, or tried to move in themselves. The High Priest paid handsomely for the capture of any wizards found in Valkyrie Falls.

Aurora brushed herself off and kicked the man she had just bested in combat for good measure, but before she could revel in her victory, someone grabbed her from behind in a sleeper-hold. “You’re coming with me to the temple, lass,” said the unseen assailant.

“Like fuck I am!” she shouted, and she snaked her foot out behind her and caught her captor in the back of the knee with it. The limb buckled, and she folded her slim body and used the man’s heavier frame to her advantage, letting the overbalanced male roll forward over her back. She lifted again at the last minute, sending him tumbling to the floor onto his stomach. Before he could get up, she planted one boot onto the back of his neck, while grabbing one of his arms and twisting it. She applied pressure to the back of his elbow with one of her hands, and the man cried out in agony. “One false move and I’ll snap your arm like a twig,” she snarled.

“Oh, I like this!” Shouted Vurkanan, and he gleefully broke his ale mug over the head of the man who was still nursing his groin.

“ _Vurkanan_!” Roared a thunderous voice from the doorway.

“Aurora!” Hollered a softer voice.

Both of them froze, as did most of the other people in the tavern. Tsabrak and Lythas were standing there, with Lyre and Morgan peeking over their shoulders.

“Err…hullo, Tsabrak,” Vurkanan said to his sibling with a look of surprise. He still held the broken mug in his hand, and a piece of it fell to the floor. The sound of the ceramic shard hitting the hardwood floor was the only sound in the room…even the beaten up ruffians ceased their moaning.

~xox~

“How did you find us?” Vurkanan asked with a wince of pain as his older brother grabbed his arm and dragged him out into the street. Lythas was behind them, gently shooing his daughter to follow.

“Oh, it was rather easy, considering that several of the tavern’s patrons were running the streets in a panic, shouting that there were two sorcerers in the Jolly Whistler killing people!” Tsabrak paused and rounded on his little brother. “Do you realize that the two of you may have just lost an important source of trade for Lythallendar with your stupidity? DO YOU?”

None of them had ever seen Tsabrak this angry, or this worried before. “You are hurting me,” Vurkanan said softly, almost pleadingly.

Tsabrak snapped, “Good. If we hadn’t found you when we did, you’d have a hell of a lot more to worry about than a bruised arm.”

Lyre gathered his courage and said, “Let him go, sir. The danger is passed, and you’re being too rough with him.”

The pirate practically threw his brother at the younger sire. “We have to get out of here…now. Once the city officials here of this, there will be a witch-hunt, and this little fool could be executed. So could Aurora, for that matter. Guilt by association.”

Lyre put his arm around Vurkanan, who was suddenly trembling. “I did not know…you never said anything about sorcery being outlawed here!”

Aurora started to say something, but an angry look from her father changed her mind. For once, she kept her mouth shut. Lythas looked ready to explode himself, and she began to realize just how much danger she and Vurkanan’s little brawl may have put them all in.

“I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t used that time freeze spell back there,” panted Morgan, who was clearly fatigued as he struggled to keep up with them.

So, that was why everyone seemed to be unable to move when they entered the Tavern, Aurora realized. She thought they were all so intimidated by Tsabrak’s glowing cat eyes and shouting voice. She knew _she_ had been, and not many people could intimidate her.

Vurkanan looked at the tired young human sorcerer, then at Tsabrak. “May I work a levitation enchantment on him, so that he can keep up?”

Tsabrak spared a glance at the young Bargel, and seeing how tired he was, he nodded. “Do it quickly, Vurkanan. We have to get aboard the Swordfish and away from the harbor before they can identify us.”

They stopped long enough for the silver-haired lifebearer to whistle softly and make a rising motion with his hands. Morgan sighed in relief as he began to float above the ground. Now all he had to do was concentrate on moving forward…no physical exertion was required. “Hurry,” said Tsabrak, looking around with narrowed eyes, “I can sense them heading this way.”

"I can feel their divination spells tracking us too," Vurkanan announced.. “How much further?” he questioned, for Tsabrak was leading them all down the back roads, and he and Aurora had taken a direct path to get to the Jolly Whistler.

“Not far now,” said Lyre, who had taken position behind Vurkanan to protect him from anyone who might jump out at him, “only a couple more blocks.”

Aurora shivered as bells began to ring in the city. She thought she could hear a crowd roaring from somewhere in town and she began to feel the stirrings of fear.

~xox~

On they ran, hoping that they could outdistance the crowd and make it unseen to the ship. There were two dangers; the most prominent one being that they would be caught and put on trial. The second danger was that even if they escaped, there was a chance they would be spotted and branded as outlaws, never allowed back into the city again. Lythas could find other people to trade with, even though the rebels here provided good cash inflow. The threat to their lives was far more severe. The four lashran leaped nimbly over a ditch, while Morgan simply flew over it.

“There is the ship,” Lythallendar panted as they emerged from the back streets. They could all see the docks, but there were guards around.

Tsabrak swore. Of course, there were guards at the docks! Why hadn’t he thought of Customs on the way back? He hissed for everyone to stop, and he narrowed his golden eyes in concentration and started to chant in a whispering voice.

Lythas sighed in relief as a thick fog billowed in from the ocean, conjured by Tsabrak’s will. There were exclamations of surprise and confusion from the inspection guards as the fog settled over the area in a murky blanket.

“Come on…everyone hold hands and follow me,” whispered Tsabrak, who had memorized the path they needed to take to sneak past.

Lythas took Tsabrak’s hand, Lyre took Lythas’ hand, Vurkanan took Lyre’s hand, Aurora took Vurkanan’s hand, and Morgan took Aurora’s hand. The young woman glanced behind her to see if Morgan was all right, and she had to pinch her lips on a nervous giggle. The young Bargel looked like a human kite, floating behind her like that. Reminding herself that this was a serious situation, she stifled her amusement and made certain that her grip was strong on both Vurkanan’s hand and Morgan’s.

Hearts pounding, they followed Tsabrak through the thick fog. None of them could see more than a foot ahead of them, but the sire had marked his path well, and he was very careful not to lead his little caravan too close to any of the disoriented guards. They were whisper quiet as they carefully chose their footing. Four lashran and a floating human did not make much noise, after all. One of the guards spun around in circles as Morgan’s dangling shirt brushed against his arm, but the man passed out cold with shock and fear when he caught a brief glimpse of the Bargel. To the guard’s eye, it appeared as if a ghost had just floated past him. The others were too far ahead for him to have made them out in the thick fog and deduced the truth of it.

~xox~

Tsabrak gave thanks to the forests as his foot touched down on the boarding plank of the Swordfish, and he increased his speed-practically dragging the others behind him in his haste to get them all on board. Once they were on deck, Lythas’ crew surrounded them with weapons, then immediately dropped their guard when they could make out their captain’s vivid green eyes and youthful features.

“What’s going on, sir?” questioned one of the men, his gaze shooting towards the city. The sound of the mob was drawing closer to the docks.

“Hurry,” Lythas said breathlessly, running to the starboard, “we haven’t much time…we must go before the city officials can identify us, or we’ll all be jailed or worse!”

His men needed no further prompting. Tsabrak told the young ones to get below deck and sit down, and then he rushed to Lythas’ side to help him. “I would summon a wind to help, but since your ship has no sails, it would be rather useless.”

That gave Lythas an idea. If Tsabrak could manipulate wind and fog like that, he could probably manipulate steam, too. “Tsabrak, you may still be able to speed our egress,” he suggested as he pulled down on a lever to signal the men below to start the engines, “Go into the engine room and see if you can make the steam build up faster…it should hasten this ship even more than a blast of wind to the sails would have.”

Tsabrak smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “I won’t let you down,” he promised before racing away. It would be more difficult than most of his conjurations, he knew. Doing what Lythas asked of him would require for him to manipulate both fire and water simultaneously. He felt confident that it could be done, however. He stopped as he reached the second deck where the cabins were. Vurkanan could help him. Morgan was probably too worn out from the powerful spell he had cast earlier, but Vurkanan was just as talented with elemental manipulation as Tsabrak was.

“Vurkanan…come out here!” Tsabrak shouted. He waited impatiently, having no idea whether his sibling had gone to his own cabin or into another one with the other younger people. He had no time to search through all of the suites. He was about to shout his name again, when Vurkanan’s silver head peaked around the corner of one of the doors. “I need your help…come with me to make up for the mess you’ve caused,” Tsabrak explained with a crook of his finger.

Vurkanan quickly followed his older brother down the second flight of stairs, and again down the third. They both stumbled as the ship’s engine powered up and the vessel lurched into motion. “What do you need for me to do?” Vurkanan asked as they entered the engine room.

Tsabrak guided his sibling towards the four large boilers, where men were frantically trying to heat them up to generate more steam. “Help me gather enough energy to get us quickly out of sight. I’ll work on generating water, while you can work on generating fire. Together, we should be able to double the effectiveness of each boiler.”

Vurkanan gave him a blank, confused look, and Tsabrak sighed. His little brother had never been one for science…he did not understand the mechanics of it. “Just make those big metal things really hot, but not so hot that you catch us on fire…understand?”

The lifebearer shrugged. “If you think that will help-“ he began.

“I know it will. Now please, no arguments!” Tsabrak snapped. “Begin now.”

~xox~

Lythas twirled the wheel rapidly, turning the Swordfish away from the docks as quickly as he could. Home. They should go home to Tariff. He gave the wheel another spin, making the ship circle. “Oh, please hurry, Tsabrak,” he murmured when turned his head and saw the torchlight of the mob lighting up the fog on the harbor.

He was nearly knocked off his feet as a thick cloud of steam erupted from the stacks and the ship jerked into a faster momentum. Lythas clung to the wheel until he regained his balance, then he smiled in relief as the Swordfish bounced and dipped through the choppy waters. He steadied the wheel, studying the compass carefully to be sure he put his vessel on the correct heading. Once all was in order, he tied the securing ropes to the wheel to keep her steady and motioned to the co-captain to take his place. It was a fairly easy job, once Lythas set the course. All the man had to do was follow the chart and make sure they didn’t drift off course. Once he was sure it was under control, Lythas went outside to judge whether they might have pursuit or not.

The ship was riding roughly from the unusual speed, but Lythas knew she would hold together until it was safe. His green eyes narrowed and he tucked his dark hair into his cape so that it would not interfere with his vision. The harbor was a blurred dot now, and Valkyrie Falls looked small because of the distance that had spread between the city and the ship. Lythas could see no sign of other ships, and he leaned against the rail as relief made him shake. The thought of his children being executed or imprisoned for life had frightened him nearly witless, and he wondered if the nightmares he had suffered through a couple of nights ago had actually been some sort of premonition, or warning.

Lythas shuddered as pieces of the nightmares came back to him. He saw Aurora being raped by men who called her a witch and kept her shackled in a cold, dank cell. He saw Lyre being slowly strangled to death by a noose around his neck, while a crowd of bloodthirsty people jeered and hooted at his suffering. Now that he thought about it, he remembered Vurkanan briefly in the dream too, but he couldn’t recall more than the lad’s face so bloody and broken in the nightmare that he hadn’t recognized him when he met him in person. Any more of the dream was lost to Lythas…he only remembered the worst parts concerning his children clearly.

One of the crewmen came by and asked Lythas if he was well when he sat down on the deck and rested his head against the railing. Lythas thanked him for his concern and explained that he had only had a moment of dizziness when the ship lurched. “If you don’t mind my saying so young sir, I think you should tell them to lower the power on the engines,” the man said, “and you should probably get safely below. There’s a storm coming in from the South, and our course is going to take us into it.”

Lythas’ eyes followed the man’s pointing finger, and sure enough, he could see lighting jumping from an angry, dark mass of clouds. “We should find a safe harbor,” he said softly.

His crewman shook his head and gave an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, Master Darshaw, but the nearest harbor is still too far for us to make it before the storm sets in. We’ll do our best to find a cove to wait it out in, and if we can’t do that, we’ll drop anchor as close to shore as we can so we don’t get pushed off course.”

A cold, damp wind lifted Lythallendar’s cloak at that moment, and he hugged himself and shivered, smelling the rain and electricity in the air. It would be a bad storm. “Very well. I understand. Do what you can.” The crewman nodded and walked away to get back to his work, and Lythas made his way to the hatch and down to the engine room.

He saw Tsabrak and Vurkanan on their hands and knees, trembling with exertion. The men in charge of the boilers exclaimed in amazement that they had never seen the engine turning so fast, and some of them muttered that it was dangerous for them to continue to do so. Lythas gently shook Tsabrak’s shoulder to break his trance.

The sire turned a sweat-drenched, pale face up to Lythas and stared at him with dilated golden eyes. Lythas winced in sympathy, realizing what a heavy toll this must have taken on him. “You can both stop now. We are far enough away from Valkyrie Falls that any pursuit will have lost our trail by now.”

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Tsabrak pulled himself out of his Working and then turned to his brother and instructed for him to do the same. Lythas was again shocked, for when Vurkanan looked up, there was blood running from his nose.

“Oh, Vurkanan!” Lythallendar knelt to one knee and removed a handkerchief from his pocked to staunch the flow.

Vurkanan blinked his crystalline eyes in confusion as Lythas gently dabbed at the blood running from his nose. “Is it safe now?” he asked in a slurred voice.

Tsabrak patted his sibling’s shoulder. “Aye lad…we’re far enough away from the city to let the ship go back to its normal speed, now. You can stop taxing yourself this way.”

“Are you still angry with me?” Vurkanan said as he swayed unsteadily.

“No, Vurk. I’m sorry that I was so hard on you. Here, let me carry you to your cabin,”

Lythas moved aside so that the sire could lift his sibling into his arms.

“Are you certain you can carry him?” Lythas asked in worry, seeing how fatigued Tsabrak appeared as well.

Tsabrak flashed a grin at him. “Provided my ankle does not go out on me, I’m positive. You lifebearers are as light as a feather.”

Lythas smirked. Well, he supposed it must be true, as often as Coren and Tsabrak had carried him in the past. Either that, or he had a knack for choosing the strongest lovers.

~xox~

“What happened?” Lyre asked in alarm when he met them in the hallway. The young man gazed at Vurkanan’s half-conscious form with an expression of such worry that Lythas knew beyond a doubt that he was completely smitten.

Checking a sigh, Lythas explained why Vurkanan was so exhausted and why his nose was bleeding. “He will be fine,” he quickly assured as Lyre looked even more worried, “Tsabrak says that he put his body under too much stress, and will recover quickly with rest. Where is Aurora?”

Without taking his eyes off of Vurkanan, Lyre answered him. “She’s in her quarters, talking to Morgan.” Seeing the slight frown on Lythas’ face, he added, “Don’t worry, Father…she’s completely over her seasonals. Morgan is only offering his support. She feels really badly about what happened. Please, don’t be too harsh with her.”

Lythas grimaced. “I won’t, Lyre. I’m just as angry with myself for not properly warning her and Vurkanan of the dangers in Valkyrie Falls. I think if I had shared more information, they might not have acted so recklessly. I simply expected for her to be feeling unwell for the duration of our planned stay there. The fault lies more with me, for making assumptions like that.”

“It was just as much my fault as it was yours, love,” Tsabrak said as he carried his sibling into the cabin and lay him down on the bed, “I could have told Vurkanan not to use his magic or cause an uproar while we were here. I didn’t warn the younglings of how important a low profile was.”

Lythas smiled, then laughed softly and gave Tsabrak a fond look. “You know, the two of us could be up for days arguing over which is more at fault.”

Tsabrak shared his laughter as he tucked Vurkanan in. “Aye…you’re right. I suppose we can all decide who gets the most blame at another time. What matters most is that we all made it out safely.”

Lythas bit his lip. “We are not completely safe yet, Tsab. There is a storm coming, and we cannot reach a safe harbor in time. I _do_ feel confident that my crew will find the best spot they are able to for us to wait it out, however.”

A distant crack of thunder added emphasis to the lifebearer’s words, and Vurkanan tried to sit up. “Shhh, lie down lad,” said Tsabrak gently, pushing his little brother back on the mattress.

Vurkanan looked at them all with nervous, pewter eyes. “There is a stormfront moving in?”

Tsabrak nodded. “Yes, but we’ll be just fine. This ship may be small, but she’s the sturdiest I’ve seen yet.”

His words did nothing to reassure the younger lashran. Lyre realized then that Vurkanan was frightened of storms for some reason. Tsabrak whispered to the younger him and Lythas, pitching his voice low so that his sibling wouldn’t hear. “His lover died while in a storm at sea. The high winds capsized his fishing boat, and that is how he got tangled up in the net and drowned. He’s never gotten over his fear of storms, as a result—particularly storms at sea.”

Lyre looked past Tsabrak at Vurkanan’s beautiful, vulnerable features, and his heart melted. “I can stay here with him, if it will help him to feel safe,” he murmured.

Tsabrak studied the younger sire. He looked at his sibling’s sincerely frightened features, and he wavered. Tsabrak noticed the way the two of them were staring at one another and he finally shrugged and looked at Lythas. “Lythallendar, dearest? What do you think?”

Lythas considered Vurkanan with unblinking emerald eyes for a moment, and then he nodded slowly. “Yes…I think it would be best for them to stay together. Lyre can provide Vurkanan with a distraction from his fears.”

Lythas blushed and turned to his son, hugging him tightly. “Remember what I told you about being careful,” he whispered into his ear, and then he took Tsabrak’s hand to indicate that he was ready to retire to their own cabin.

Tsabrak’s face was a picture of almost comical confusion as he was led out of the cabin by the hand. Lyre blushed as hotly as his father with the realization that he’d just been encouraged to act on his desires.

~xox~

“Do you mind if I change into my nightclothes?” questioned Vurkanan in a subdued voice when he and Lyre were alone together.

The young sire swallowed. “Not at all. I shall turn my back while you dress.” He politely turned around, closing his eyes when he heard the lifebearer opening the chest in the room. Soft footfalls, coupled with the delicate, rustling sound of clothing made Lyre’s imagination catch fire, and he blushed when his groin hardened. In all his young life, he had never faced the temptation to go back on his word as strongly as he did now. He literally had to lock up the muscles in his neck to keep his head from turning around to look.

“I am finished now,” Vurkanan’s soft voice said.

Lyre turned around to face him, and he was surprised to see that Vurkanan was dressed in a modest, knee-length silk shirt. It was black in color, and quite becoming on the silver haired lashran.

“Would you like to take your boots off and get more comfortable?” Vurkanan offered, smiling at him. It was clearly an effort for him to keep his voice calm. He flinched like a cat struck with drops of water each time the thunder boomed.

Lyre nodded. “Aye, thank you.” He pulled his boots off and set them in a corner of the room. The ship’s rocking was becoming more pronounced, and he found himself having difficulty balancing. He hadn’t yet developed his sea legs, as this was truly the first time he had been on a boat for this long, and never before had he been in rough waters.

“Will you lie down with me? Please?” Vurkanan’s voice was strained, and his pewter eyes were wide with vulnerability. The lifebearer squirmed until he was against the wall, and then he lifted the covers invitingly.

Lyre hesitated, not certain how well he could control himself with that sleek, smooth body pressed up against him. His green eyes flicked to Vurkanan’s bare legs, which were visible up to the thigh due to the nightshirt scrunching up. “I don’t know if that is such a good idea,” he said huskily. He had been with one woman intimately in his young life, and never had he bedded a man, but never before had he felt such strong sexual urges towards another person.

Vurkanan’s eyes were luminous and frightened in the lamplight. “Please…I am afraid, Lyre. I need your strength. I promise I will behave myself,” the lifebearer gave a forced little laugh, his delicate lips turning up into a trembling smile.

The boat tilted a bit, and Vurkanan’s hands became white-knuckled as they grasped the covers. “Alright, Vurkanan…everything will be just fine,” Lyre soothed as he staggered across the cabin and slid onto the bed. His protective instincts got the better of him, and he pulled the trembling lifebearer against his chest and stroked his back gently.

Vurkanan snuggled against him, pressing his cheek against his chest. “I hate storms in the ocean,” he whispered, and he squirmed closer so that their bodies were practically melded together. His fingers toyed with the lacing on Lyre’s cotton shirt.

Lyre pressed his lips against the other man’s forehead, savoring the soft texture of Vurkanan’s skin. His heartbeat picked up when Vurkanan carelessly threw a bare leg over his. Vurkanan tilted his head back and looked up at him with an expression of wonderment on his fair features. Reaching up with one, trembling hand, he traced Lyre’s strong jaw line with his fingertips.

“You seem very mature for your years,” he observed, “both in mannerism and looks. Did you inherit such strong features from your human sire?”

It took Lyre a moment to answer, for the innocent touch ignited a fire in his belly that spread through his groin and chest. “Yes, I inherited most of my looks from my sire,” he managed to say hoarsely.

The small, round portal that served as a window in the cabin lit up as lightning flashed outside, and Vurkanan gave a little moan and pressed even harder against Lyre as the loud clap of thunder inevitably followed.

“There now, I won’t let anything happen to you,” Lyre said, and he ran his fingers through the lifebearer’s soft hair, “Father and Tsabrak both seemed confident that we’ll be all right in this squall, and I trust their judgement. You just have to hold on long enough for it to blow over.”

He found himself staring at Vurkanan’s lips, and before he quite knew what he was doing, he kissed them. They were pliant and supple against his mouth, and he pressed more firmly against them.

Vurkanan caressed Lyre’s face, surprised by the gentle kiss. Lyre did his best to convey his desire to protect and comfort him in the kiss, pushing back his eagerness. Every caress and motion of his lips bore a promise with it…a promise to cherish the man in his bed. Vurkanan sighed against his mouth and parted his lips invitingly.

Lyre tenderly pushed his tongue into Vurkanan’s mouth, stroking the warmth within in slow, leisurely circles. His breath quickened and his body heated as he felt Vurkanan’s hard groin pressing against his leg through the thin material of the silk nightshirt. Realizing that the lifebearer had nothing on beneath the garment, he groaned softly and slid his hands down Vurkanan’s back, stopping just above his buttocks. He forced himself not to reach beneath the scanty concealment of the nightshirt to cup the smooth, naked roundness of the tempting twin mounds. He unconsciously began to move his leg up and down, causing friction against the lifebearer’s swollen genitals.

“Mmmm,” purred Vurkanan, moving his hips in time with delight. Impassioned by the young sire’s gentleness, he loosened the strings of Lyre’s shirt to bare more of his chest. He slipped his hands into the opening and touched the muscular, smooth expanse within, and Lyre kissed him more deeply in response.

All that existed to Lyre at this moment was the feel of Vurkanan’s mouth against his and the touch of their bodies against one another. Unable to help himself, he put his hand on the other lashran’s leg and began to slowly move it up his outer thigh. He was slightly surprised when Vurkanan gently stopped him from moving further than his hip, but he didn’t argue. He remembered his talk with Tsabrak about how Vurkanan’s previous lover had courted him, and he reasoned that he needed to be persistent without being overly forceful. He trailed soft kisses down his throat and along his collarbone, and Vurkanan arched against him and made a soft sound of pleasure.

Each time Vurkanan pushed against Lyre’s wandering hands to stop them from going to his more tender spots, he became a little more frustrated. Vurkanan had sent all the signals indicating that he wanted him, so was this a coy game or did he truly want him to stop? Lyre sensed that asking him outright would only make him uncertain, so he persevered, patiently wearing the lifebearer’s resistance down.

~xox~

Of course, Vurkanan was trying to avoid giving his handsome companion the impression that he was as promiscuous as he looked. He truly liked Lyre, and he wanted him to respect him. His mild protests became weaker and weaker as the sire stubbornly stroked his hip and caressed his outer thigh. He smirked as Lyre feverishly kissed the exposed bit of his chest and continued to move his hand higher beneath the nightshirt. Who would have thought that he’d ever have genuine feelings of passion for someone again, after losing the man he loved? He was hard and aching with desire, and the strength of his warding hands dwindled.

Lyre made a pleased, whispered groan as his hand came into contact with Vurkanan’s smooth buttocks. He kneaded and stroked the silken flesh for a moment, ignoring the soft, insincere protests. Inwardly, Vurkanan was pleased that he wasn’t giving up easily. He was chagrined to admit to himself that he was uncertain of how to handle Lyre, because it had been so long since he’d actually wanted a sire’s attentions. Lyre’s fingers slid between the two firm globes he was caressing, and Vurkanan whimpered and wriggled against him. The blond’s questing fingertips sought out the tight, puckered entrance to Vurkanan’s body and he kissed him deeply and stroked it.

Vurkanan melted against him and wondered how someone who had never been with a lifebearer before seemed to instinctively know how to stroke the erogenous spots. Lyre’s hand slid around his hip to his pelvis, and Vurkanan gave a little gasp and covered it with his own as it gripped his erection and began to fondle it. He pulled at Lyre’s wrist in an insincere attempt to dislodge the stroking hand, and he murmured a breathless protest.

“Lyre…I should not let you…” He moaned as the sire kissed him and continued to fondle him, evidently sensing his insincerity. Vurkanan shut his eyes and enjoyed it, his body throbbing with pleasure and need.

~xox~

_~So far, so good,~_ thought Lyre as he did his best to read the smaller man’s body language and act accordingly.

He prayed he wasn’t misreading him and taking liberties he shouldn’t be. He guessed that if Vurkanan really wanted him to stop, he’d make it known in no uncertain terms. Lyre was prepared to apologize profusely, if that happened. His body heat had risen with his arousal and he began to perspire, his bronze skin gleaming in the lamplight. He rolled Vurkanan onto his back and used his free hand to lift the nightshirt, and then he circled a dusky nipple with his tongue. Vurkanan gave a breathless cry and squeezed the hand that was lovingly moving up and down his stiff shaft. Lyre’s hips settled between his thighs and the sire paused, giving Vurkanan another chance to back out.

When he was sure no protest was forthcoming, Lyre practically ripped the laces of his own breeches off in his haste to remove them. He calmed somewhat when Vurkanan began to help him remove his clothes.

“I really should not be doing this,” the sorcerer said again, yet he was kissing Lyre’s shoulders and neck and running his hands all over his body, in a bold and faintly possessive manner.

Aroused beyond the point of coherent speech now, Lyre kissed him again as he finished removing his clothes. One last, breathy comment was issued from Vurkanan’s kiss-swollen lips as Lyre’s naked body covered his, but it sounded more like a plea to continue than to stop. “Lyre, oh…Lyre.” His hands played over Lyre’s chest and he gazed up at him with glowing, sultry eyes.

Lyre captured his wrists in his own and held them down, on either side of his head. “I won’t hurt you,” he gasped when he noticed a flash of surprise and wariness on that beautiful face. He gentled his hold on him and released him, understanding that he’d taken assertiveness a bit too far. The alarm he’d sensed in Vurkanan’s eyes diminished as Lyre released his wrists again and kissed him gently, caressing his face as he did. The tension in the lifebearer’s svelte form relaxed and Vurkanan resumed exploring him, kissing him back with eager passion.

Lyre paused as he pressed his swollen sex against Vurkanan’s entrance. It was dry. He wasn’t sure how to proceed. A woman could be stimulated until she lubricated, but it seemed that in order to bed Vurkanan, he would need to find an alternate source. He considered making him climax and using his ejaculate fluids, but nearly slapped himself in the face at his own stupidity as he remembered his father explaining that doing that could get Vurkanan pregnant.

~xox~

Seeing the look of dismay on Lyre’s face, Vurkanan smiled. His uncertainty was easy to understand, and it was clear that he wasn’t sure what to do next. “Prop yourself on your elbow, Lyre,” he whispered.

Lyre did so, and Vurkanan took his free hand in his and guided it between his own thighs. The sire licked his lips and waited as Vurkanan showed him where to stimulate. Vurkanan guided the motions of Lyre’s fingers, encouraging him to rub in circles and showing him how much pressure to use. Lyre did as he was instructed, and he relaxed in relief when Vurkanan trembled in pleasure and gasped his approval.

Lyre continued the treatment for several minutes, until Vurkanan was tense and shaking all over, breathing unevenly. Vurkanan finally coaxed him to remove his hand, and then he held his arms open invitingly and parted his thighs. Lyre was shaking with a combination of fear and excitement as he again positioned himself.

"Tell me if I hurt you," whispered Lyre. Gazing deeply into the pale, silvery eyes that looked up at him, Lyre pushed his hips forward.

Despite the preparations they’d made and Vurkanan’s effort to relax, there was resistance at first. It had been a long time since Vurkanan had coupled with anyone, and his body would need to adjust to the sensation again. The Lifebearer’s eyes narrowed pain and he hissed through his teeth as the length of his companion’s swollen sex eased into his body.

“Oh gods,” Lyre gasped, shutting his eyes. “So tight!” He withdrew a little and pressed back in before opening his eyes again and gazing down at Vurkanan. He stopped immediately when he saw the discomfort on Vurkanan’s face, and he braced himself with one arm and traced his lips and cheekbones. He started to withdraw, obviously intending to stop altogether, but Vurkanan shook his head and stopped him.

“It will…pass,” gasped Vurkanan, fingertips digging into Lyre’s back, “Just…hold yourself within me for a few moments, so that my body can adjust. Don’t pull out.”

"Very well," murmured Lyre huskily. "If you are certain. I don’t want to cause you any pain."

He followed up the statement by lowering his mouth to Vurkanan’s and giving him a tender kiss. His golden hair fell forward and the feathered tips tickled the lifebearer’s face as his lips and tongue worked wonders to assuage Vurkanan’s tension. The gentle kisses were nice, and the soft promises to make it good for him endeared Lyre to him even more. The discomfort of the breech began to fade, and Vurkanan appreciated the feel of Lyre’s hard cock inside of him more and more with each passing moment. His breath quickened again and his hands explored the tawny, strong body pressing him down with greater enthusiasm.

"Better now?" Lyre inquired, drawing back to look at him hopefully.

"Infinitely," agreed Vurkanan, his lips curving into a sultry smile. He looked up at the face hovering over his and he caressed it with admiring fingertips. "So beautiful…like a green-eyed lion."

A tremendous boom of thunder made the walls vibrate at that moment, and Vurkanan cried out in fear and tried to rise. “Shhh…it’s only noise, love,” murmured Lyre, gently subduing him. He covered Vurkanan’s ears with his palms and began to slowly thrust, staring into his eyes as he did so. Vurkanan’s look of panic faded into one of pleasure and wonder, and his breath caught each time Lyre’s shaft pushed deeply into his body. Lyre gave a shaken moan of pleasure and kissed him again.

With Lyre’s hands muffling the sound of the thunder that surrounded them, it was easier for Vurkanan to be distracted from his fear. He clung to Lyre and whispered his name in a hitching gasp as the sire gained confidence and began thrusting more firmly. After a few moments, it almost seemed to Vurkanan’s feverish imagination that Lyre was a part of the thunder. His hips pumped in concordance with the rolling clashes of fury, and his lips sent shocks of electric pleasure through him as they sought out sensitive areas of his body and worshipped them.

~xox~

Lyre was lost in the overwhelming ecstasy of coupling with Vurkanan. The lifebearer’s silvery hair was spread about his head like a halo, framing a face that was so perfect that it caused an ache in his heart to look at it. He wanted to touch Vurkanan all over, but he didn’t. Instead, he kept his hands cupped over the other Lashran’s ears to shield them from the sounds that frightened him so. Lyre kept his gaze locked with Vurkanan’s, feeling a connection with him that he’d never experienced before in his young life. He quickened his pace and bit his lip in exquisite pleasure as his orgasm arrived.

Vurkanan held Lyre tightly as he arched his back and filled him with his seed. He stroked the hovering locks of blond hair out of the sire’s green eyes and caressed his parted lips with his fingertips. Breathing heavily, Lyre kissed Vurkanan’s fingers and resumed his lovemaking. He hardened again quickly, and Vurkanan groaned and shook all over as Lyre pushed his sex firmly up to the hilt within him and began to rotate his hips in small circles.

“Oh…that is…wonderful, Lyre,” he encouraged in a tight voice as the hard shaft stimulated the sensitive gland deep within him. “Ah…oooh, don’t stop…please don’t stop, my lion!”

Lyre had no intention of stopping. He kept his motions steady until the stimulation drove his companion to the brink and beyond. He muffled Vurkanan’s sharp cry of release with his mouth, kissing him amorously as Vurkanan spilled himself between their shifting torso, making their skin slippery against each other’s. Lyre held still for a while, allowing both of them to catch their breath. Of course, the rocking of the ship in the turbulent waters made holding still more difficult than he had imagined. Vurkanan moaned against his lips as the ship unexpectedly dipped, causing Lyre to rock forward and penetrate him deeper. They both found it to be quite erotic, and they gave themselves up to the pleasure of allowing the waves to guide their lovemaking.

~xox~

-To be continued


	6. Chapter 6

“These younglings are going to drive me to drink,” Tsabrak stated as he and Lythas entered their cabin.  He watched the lifebearer carefully, waiting to see what his reaction would be to the clock that was safely nestled between the pillows of the bed.

Lythallendar smiled at his lover over his shoulder.  “We were that age too, once.”

Tsabrak nodded.  “Aye…you’re barely out of that age yourself, my sweet one.  How is it that you always keep such a level head about you?”

Lythas shrugged and turned back to the bed, bracing himself with one hand on the post while he removed his boots.  “I suppose I’m just lucky.  Perhaps it is because I did not have the time to do foolish things in my youth.  I have always been an outcast or a slave…” he trailed off and his green eyes widened as he looked down at the bed and found his present.  Mouth working silently, Lythas reverently picked up the artfully decorated clock and turned to Tsabrak questioningly.  “Oh…when did you…” he began, but a lump formed in his throat and he hastily swallowed.

Smiling happily at how moved his young lover was by the gift, Tsabrak approached him and ran his fingers through Lythas’ silken hair.  “I noticed you eyeing that while we were getting supplies.  I’ve plenty of my own money, and I simply couldn’t resist spoiling you a bit.  Call it an early Bonding present.  Do you like it?”

It was a foolish question.  It was quite clear that Lythas was in love with the timepiece, and his fingers traced the smoothly arching neck of the dragon curled around the clock.  “Oh, Tsabrak…I cannot believe you did this!  Your kindness is beyond any I have ever experienced.” he looked up at him with shining emerald eyes and rose to place a tender kiss on Tsabrak’s lips.  The sire felt the frown on his lips and he pulled back to study him curiously.

“What is it, Lythallendar?” Tsabrak murmured, cupping his chin to make him meet his eyes, “something troubles you…you cannot hide it.”

Lythas shook his head and carefully placed the beautiful waterclock in his dresser, bundling it snugly with his clothing to be certain it wouldn’t get cracked.  “It is nothing, Tsabrak.  I am merely pondering things too much.”

Tsabrak stared at him suspiciously, quite aware that Lythas was hiding something from him.  He thought he understood what troubled him; Lythas’ expressions were easy to read.  He was doubtlessly feeling guilty again.  Sighing, Tsabrak pulled Lythas into his arms and hugged him tightly, kissing the crown of his head. 

“Lythallendar, I bought that for you simply because I knew you wanted it and I love you.  I didn’t do it with the intention of trying to make you love me back.  I know how hard it is to open your heart up to a new lover after losing someone dear to you.”

Lythas looked up at him and whispered, “How many lovers have you had, Tsabrak?  How many have you lost?” For all of his years of knowing the pirate, much of the Sire’s past was a mystery to him.

Tsabrak guided Lythas to the bed and sat down beside him.  “Oh, I’ve had my share of lovers, both human and lashran.  The only one of those whom I bonded with was a lifebearer by the name of Phynocas.  He discovered that he was barren, and I watched as he slowly wasted away.  He blamed himself, you see…he knew that I wanted children badly, and because he could not give them to me, he no longer wished to live.” the sire’s golden eyes were shadowed with remembered sorrow as he stared unseeingly at the wall.

Lythallendar swallowed again, reaching out to stroke his shoulders.  “Oh, Tsabrak…I am so sorry.  I never knew!  How long ago was this?”

Tsabrak smiled gently at him and brought his hand to his lips, caressing the skin softly with a kiss.  “’Twas well over one hundred years ago-long before you were born.  I thought that I would never love another as I did my Phynocas.  I swore that I would never try.  Then, a raven-haired young lifebearer came into my life, in need of my help.  The dead feeling inside of me vanished upon meeting you, Lythallendar.” his gaze was earnest and loving on the younger man.

Lythas failed to prevent the spasm of pain that crossed his features,and he closed his eyes.  “I never knew that you had suffered the same loss as me.” 

“Let us not think of these things for now,” murmured Tsabrak gently, caressing Lythas’ ivory pale face with his fingertips.  “We’re both of us exhausted, and we should try to get some rest.  Who knows where the ship may end up when this storm blows over?”

As if to accentuate his point, the vessel rocked quite suddenly, and Tsabrak had to grab hold of Lythas to keep him from pitching forward onto the floor.  “I think,” said Lythas with wide eyes, “that we should put the supporting slats on the bed for tonight.”

Tsabrak nodded and helped him retrieve the padded, wooden slats from the corner of the room.  They locked them into place so that the bed was walled in, thus preventing them from possibly rolling off of the bed during the storm.  They changed into their nightclothes, and though Tsabrak couldn’t help but admire Lythallendar’s sleek body, he didn’t try any sexual advances on the lad.  He understood that Lythas needed comfort and support right now, though he had no doubt that the Lifebearer would make love with him if he asked it.  Lythas was a very dutiful individual, and it bothered Tsabrak to think that the lad would put aside his own comfort to please him.  He held him tenderly and rubbed his back until Lythas fell asleep.  Once he was certain his young lover was resting, Tsabrak closed his own eyes and drifted off as well.

~xox~

It was the absence of the rocking that woke Lythas from his sleep.  He turned and looked at Tsabrak, unable to stop himself from admiring the sire’s handsome, elegant features.  Assured that Tsabrak was in a deep sleep, Lythas climbed carefully out of the bed and put his robe and slippers on.  He wanted to see if they had indeed passed out of the storm, or if there was more to come.  He turned towards the door and stopped, a puzzled expression blooming on his fair features.  The cabin door was open, and it was swinging gently with the motions of the ship.  Had one of his children come in to check on them?  He could have sworn he had locked that door.

The look of puzzlement on his features became one of shock, fear and hope all at once, for a man walked past the open doorway and stopped beyond the threshold.  He was a tall, human male with a neatly trimmed, short beard and mustache.  The moonlight streaming in from the portholes showed the man’s hair to be pale blond, and it was tied back in a ponytail.  Light, blue-grey eyes gazed back at the stunned Lifebearer, and the man’s strong, handsome features lit up with a white-toothed, cocky smile.

“Coren?” gasped Lythas in disbelief.  His knees felt weak and his entire body began to tremble.

The phantom said nothing, merely motioned for Lythas to follow and then continued down the hall towards the hatch that would lead above deck.  “This cannot be happening,” whispered Lythas in a strained voice.  His feet moved of their own accord, following the path that the apparition had taken.  The Lashran went up the stairs and found that the hatch leading to the deck was hanging open.  He climbed cautiously up and looked around.  There was Coren, standing alone on the deck and leaning against the rail. 

Lythas approached his dead spouse hesitantly, his heart pounding so hard that it felt as if it would explode.  Coren looked exactly as he did over twenty years ago-young, strong, handsome and oh-so-dangerous.  “I’m glad you worked up the courage to come out here and speak with me, sweetling,” the ghost said with a slight grin, looking at Lythallendar sidelong, “I can imagine how shocking it must be to see me again.”

Lythas tried to speak, but it came out as a squeak.  He felt the sting of tears, and he tried again as his vision blurred.  “What are you doing here?” he choked.

Coren turned to fully face him, and Lythas thought that he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.  He longed to rush into his embrace and sob like a lost child.  The weapons dealer regarded him gravely, his seafoam eyes soft in a way that Lythas recognized as expressing love for him.  “I don’t have much time, Lythas.  I came to make sure you’re all right…you haven’t been doing so well, have you?” he reached out and tweaked a strand of the lashran’s midnight hair, frowning in concern.

“Oh, Coren…I miss you so,” Lythas managed to say before breaking down into bitter sobs.  He felt the pirate’s arms steel about his waist, warm and strong and as solid as a living, breathing person’s. 

“I know you do, sweetling,” he murmured as Lythallendar snuggled against his chest and frantically kissed his throat and collar bone, “I miss you too, and I wish to hell that I’d told you how much I love you…even once.  I came to tell you that now.” his fingers slipped beneath Lythallendar’s chin and forced him to look up at him.  The blue eyes were earnest and warm as they stared down at the Lashran.  “I love you.  I never told you that while I was alive, so I’m telling you now.  I realize how important it truly is to hear those words from someone you care about.  I also wanted to tell you that it’s time for you to move on.  You and I…what we had was special, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world, but you can’t go on grieving like this.  Understand?”

Lythas bit his lip and shook his head.  “No…I do not understand.  How can you appear like this and tell me you love me, yet in the same breath ask that I forget about you?  That is unfair, Coren!” he clutched at the pirate’s shirt and shook him for emphasis.

Coren sighed and kissed Lythas’ trembling lips.  “I know it isn’t fair, lad.  I’ve always been a bloody idiot when it comes to saying the right thing, and I’m sorry.  Listen to me…Tsabrak loves you very much, and he’s good for you.  I hate to admit it, but the fellow treats you better than I ever did.  I want you to try to be happy with him, all right?”

Lythas pouted unwittingly.  “Why is this so important to you?”

Coren laughed softly and pressed a finger against the petulant lips.  “Because I don’t want to see you waste away to nothing, sweetling.  Our paths are sure to meet again in the afterlife, but while you’re breathing, I want you to be happy.  Have a few babies…make a family.  You always wanted more babies, did you not?”

Lythas blushed.  Yes, this was most definitely Coren he was speaking to.  Nobody else could read him that way.  “Well, yes.  A baby would certainly be welcome, but I cannot help but feel that I am betraying you.  Tsabrak asked that I bond with him, and I accepted.” he looked up at him with wide emerald eyes, waiting to see if Coren would have an outraged explosion at the news.

The weapons dealer simply nodded.  “Aye…I know that.  It’s why I came to you tonight.  I want you to know it’s all right, Lythas.  I can’t say I’m not a little jealous, but it’s not like I can love you the way I used to, and it’s not fair for me to expect you to live a life of solitude.  You’re still so young, and you’ve got so much living to do.  Don’t spoil it all on account of missing me.  I’m a patient man.  I can wait for my turn to come round again.” he smiled as Lythas rolled his eyes.  Yes…no doubt about it…the Lashran wasn’t imagining this encounter.

“I still do not understand how you are here…can you do this often?” Lythas couldn’t hide the surge of hope that made his voice tremble.  If Coren could manifest like this whenever he chose, they could love each other again.  Having a ghost for a lover wouldn’t be the strangest thing anyone had ever done, after all.

Coren frowned in regret, and Lythas’ hopes fell.  “No, lad.  I’m about to leave for good…you won’t see me again after tonight.  I was granted this time to tell you what I felt you have to know.”

Before Lythas could speak, Coren pressed his fingers against his lips and whispered, “Like I said, we’ll have our time again, some day.  For now, I want you to take care of our kids and have plenty more to dote on.  I also want to warn you; the storm put your ship into waters close to Nandar.  Don’t land unless you absolutely have to, and tell Aurora to keep her mouth shut, if the Lashran patrolling the coast find you.  If they do, they’ll ask questions…you tell our little girl to stick with the adoption story.  It doesn’t matter so much if they know that Lyre is your birth son, but I don’t want to think of what might happen if they know the truth about our daughter.  Promise me, Lythallendar.  Promise me you’ll keep Aurora’s origins a secret from your people.”

A stab of fear struck the Lashran in the heart as he read the seriousness of this in Coren’s blue eyes.  He nodded slowly.  “You have my word, Master.  Even my crew believes that our children are adopted.  Of everyone on board, only Morgan, Tsabrak and Vurkanan know the whole truth, and I trust them to keep quiet about it.”

Coren smiled then and ruffled Lythas’ hair fondly.  “Good lad.  I swear, you’ve grown even more beautiful over the years.  You tell that sorcerer of yours that if he doesn’t take good care of you, I’ll haunt him ‘till the day he drops.”

Lythas nodded, giving him an aching smile as Coren gave him one last, gentle kiss and then stepped away.  In a voice heavy with regret, the weapons dealer said, “This is all the time I have…I can feel myself fading.  Be well, my love.  Live well.”

Lythas gave a soft cry of protest as Coren’s form dissolved into the night air, leaving him alone on the deck of the Swordfish.  He sank to his knees and covered his face with his hands as he wept quietly.  “I promise, Coren…I will try to do as you ask,” he whimpered.  Through tear-blurred eyes, he looked up at the sky to find that it was clear.  The stars twinkled soothingly overhead, as if saying that everything would be all right.  Heaving a deep, trembling sigh, Lythas pulled himself back to his feet and tried in vain to dry his streaming eyes.  He didn’t want Tsabrak to see him so upset.  If he tried to explain the phenomenon he had just witnessed to his children or betrothed, they would likely drug him up on medication out of fear that he was having delusions again.

~xox~

Tsabrak noticed the change in Lythas immediately.  The young lifebearer was much more relaxed and carefree the next day.  His children noticed it too.  “I wonder what happened to make him so happy, all the sudden?” Aurora whispered to Lyre as they watched their father cheerfully doing his rounds.

Lyre shrugged.  “Who knows?  Perhaps it was simply a good night’s rest…though how anyone could have slept through that storm is beyond me.”  The young sire yawned to emphasize his point.  Aurora cast suspicious glances between her brother and Vurkanan, who was across the deck talking to Tsabrak.  The two young people kept meeting each other’s eyes and sharing secretive little smiles.

“You fucked him, didn’t you?” Aurora said guilelessly, making Lyre turn bright red all over.

“’Rora!” Lyre hissed in mortification, looking around to see if anyone had overheard, “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes…I bed him last evening, during the storm.  Do you have to be so bloody nasty about everything?”

She snorted.  “Of course…you know me by now.  Don’t get me wrong…I’m happy for the both of you.  So, what do you think of his clothes now?  Are you going to make him wear outfits of your choice?” her tone was sarcastic, and Lyre wondered what he had done to raise her ire like this.

“Of course not…he’s not my pet or a doll I can dress up however I choose.  What kind of a person do you take me for?” his tone was hurt as he looked at her with wounded green eyes.

Aurora sighed and hugged her brother briefly.  “I’m sorry, Lyre.  I guess I’m just jealous, is all.  Everyone’s finding love except for me.  Father’s engaged to that Tsabrak, in case you didn’t notice.”

He went still and frowned at her.  “How do you know this for certain?”

She shrugged.  “I overheard them talking when I passed by their cabin yesterday.  Oh, I don’t mind as much as I thought I would.  At least Tsab’s not trying to put any pressure on Father, from what I can tell.”

Lyre rolled his eyes.  “You are incorrigible sometimes, sister of mine.  For starters, Tsabrak truly loves Father, and he treats him quite well.  As for yourself, haven’t you noticed how smitten Morgan is with you?  He’d take a musket in the chest for you, and you treat him like something you’ve scraped off of your boot.  You should be ashamed!”

Her icy eyes narrowed at him and she grimaced in anger.  “I’ve told you before, Lyre…I’m not willing to go through what Father did.  I like Morgan.  He’s a good friend, and I daresay a damned good kisser, but I’ll never fall for him.  It’s too risky.”

Lyre sighed and started to make a biting reply, but he noticed a strange look on Vurkanan’s face as Tsabrak told the lifebearer something.  Vurkanan had gone pale and frightened looking, and Tsabrak appeared just as puzzled as Lyre by the change in his sibling.  Worried, Lyre approached the pair so that he could figure out what was going on.  Lythas had quietly joined the conversation as well.

“We cannot stay this close to Nandar, Tsabrak,” Vurkanan was saying in a quivering voice, “things have changed since you last visited…I left because of those changes!”

“What is the matter?” questioned Lyre as he joined them.  He put an arm around his new lover supportively, and Vurkanan gladly leaned into the embrace, not caring if he revealed their new relationship to the others.

“We’ve entered Lashran controlled waters,” explained Tsabrak with a confused frown at his sibling, “I know it isn’t exactly a place we should stay, considering that we cannot allow them to find out about Aurora, but I hardly see the need to get so upset about it.  What haven’t you told me, Vurkanan?  What are our folk doing that is so awful that you had to run away?  You told me that you were given permission to leave.”

Vurkanan bit his lip and lowered his gaze.  “I lied.  I lied to you and to my crew.  It is true that I came looking for you, Tsabrak, but not for the reasons that I said,” he took a deep breath and looked up at his older brother imploringly. “The elders passed another law shortly after you left the last time.  No lifebearer of breeding age is allowed to go far without a sire escort, and the Council has been choosing our mates for us…regardless of our wishes.  The new laws decree that it is our duty to produce as many offspring as we are able to.  They say this is to counter the human population and make our race strong again.  We are no longer allowed to choose our mates or even decide when to have children.  They’ve practically turned us all into slaves, Tsabrak!” his trembling grew worse, and Lyre rubbed his back soothingly and kissed him on the cheek, despite his own shock and horror at the unexpected news.

Tsabrak stared at his sibling for a few moments, disbelief showing on his elegant features.  “You can’t be serious,” he murmured, shaking his head, “that is practically government sanctioned rape!  This is a serious allegation to be making against your own kind, Vurkanan!”

Lythas squeezed Tsabrak’s hand and said, “He is not making it up, Tsabrak.  Look at his face!  Our kind have sunk even lower than the humans they despise!”

Vurkanan whispered, “The night before I fled, they had me bound hand and foot in the temple.  Th-they were doing things to me…to try and make me go into my seasonals.  I had resisted them…refused to cooperate, so they drugged me and planned to stimulate my body into going into cycle for the mate they had chosen for me.  The next day, I pretended to be subdued and accepting of my fate, and I told Dragos, the owner of the ship, that I had been asked to locate you and find out if the rumors of half-human lashran wandering about were true or not.  He had no reason not to believe me, so he agreed to take me in search of you.  I am sorry that I lied to you, Tsabrak, but I was afraid!  I cannot live my life as a mindless breeder!”

Tsabrak now understood why Vurkanan had been so bitter and accusing, that first night he had come aboard the Swordfish.  He closed his eyes and clenched his hands into fists as he fought to control the rage he felt towards his people.  How could they do this to their own kind?  Had their Xenophobia gotten so far out of hand that they no longer cared about their lifebearers’ happiness?  “What did Sire and Father have to say about this?” he questioned in a carefully controlled whisper.

Vurkanan began to weep softly, and Tsabrak felt cold creep into his veins.  He took his sibling into his arms and said, “Calm down, Vurkanan.  Tell me what happened to Sire and Father…are they well?”

“I don’t know!  They went to a neighboring village to try and gain support against these new laws, but they hadn’t come back by the time I left.  I was afraid that they either were banished or fled Nandar.  I even tried to work a divination to find out, but I am no good at that sort of thing!”  His breath had begun to hitch, and he clutched at Tsabrak’s coat desperately, “Please, Tsabrak…let us leave these waters.  I am afraid of what they might do to the humans on the ship, and if they find out about Aurora…” he trailed off ominously and looked at his female friend with an expression of true concern, making her shiver.

“All right, Vurkanan.  We’ll be leaving soon.  The navigator just needs to get our bearings and set us on a course to Tariff.” Tsabrak soothed, patting his sibling gently.  Though he was being eaten alive with worry for his parents, the Sire didn’t want to risk any harm to those on board the ship by staying, and the thought of his sweet Lythas being raped for some over-zealous idea that it was his “duty” to breed made Tsabrak sick to his stomach.  He glanced at his lover to see how he was taking the news, and he was relieved to see how calm Lythallendar appeared to be, though he was indeed a bit grey complexioned with shock.

Morgan shouted something from the crow’s nest, and Tsabrak felt dread seep into him.  “What is it, lad?” he shouted back.

The young man enacted a levitation spell and floated down to them, clearly not wishing to take the time to climb down.  “There’s a ashran ship heading our way from the coastline, Sir,” the young Bargel said.  Seeing the way his lashran companions looked grimly at one another and the way Vurkanan gave a soft moan of fear, Morgan stepped closer to Aurora with a protective stance.  “Should I be chanting for an offensive spell?”

Tsabrak nodded, but Lythas said something in Lashran sharply to the sire, and Morgan was at a loss as the two argued briefly.  Lythas finally hissed, “No matter what they’ve done, they are our people!  We should at least see what they want from us before firing on them!” 

"So, there _is_ a threat,” reasoned Morgan.

Tsabrak cupped Lythallendar’s face in his hands and whispered, “I don’t want to see you or your children get hurt, beloved.  Our people have changed a lot since you last lived in Nandar…so much that even I can barely recognize them.  I will do as you ask and delay an attack on them, but if I see the slightest hint of danger to you or anyone else on this ship, all bets are off.  Is that understood?”

Lythallendar stared at him for a moment, his delicate mouth working, and then he sighed and nodded, lowering his gaze.  “Of course, Tsabrak.  You are probably right.  We shall wait to parlay with them before making a decision.  I wish to avoid violence, if at all possible.” he remembered Coren’s warning last night, and he hugged himself as a chill swept through him.  Could he pass Aurora off as a human?  Most lashran on Nandar had never seen a human female before, so as long as everyone was careful, he felt that they should be able to pull it off.

~xox~

Before the ship was within hailing distance, Tsabrak quickly retrieved the bonding bracelets that he had been keeping safe for he and Lythas.  Lythallendar looked at him questioningly as he opened up the box containing the jewelry.  “I was hoping to save these for our special day, but I think it’s best if we put them on now, little one,” he explained as he began to fasten one of the bracelets around Lythas’ wrist.

Lythas understood.  If they were forced to disembark upon Nandar with the other lashran, they would not be able to force him to bond and mate with a stranger.  “Wait, Tsabrak…give them to Vurkanan and Lyre instead,” he implored.

The Sire’s golden eyes gazed back at him in worry.  “I must protect you above all, Lythallendar.”

“Do you not see?  For once, my odd looks might prove useful,” Lythas explained in a rush, “I’m not prime breeding stock to our people, but Vurkanan is perfect in their eyes!  If we do not make it look as though your brother is already bonded with someone, they will definitely take him.  They may leave me be and accept that you are my intended, however.”

Tsabrak was torn.  He looked from his lover to his sibling and back again.  He couldn’t refute Lythallendar’s logic; he knew that Vurkanan was considered to be a prize among lifebearers.  “Ah hells, I hope your theory is right, darling one,” he finally muttered, and then he called Vurkanan and Lyre over to him.

“What is this?” Vurkanan questioned as his brother slipped a familiar looking bracelet over his wrist and fastened it.

Tsabrak grabbed Lyre’s wrist next and did the same as he answered, “They are for your protection.  I trust our people’s honor hasn’t yet degenerated to a point where they split up bonded couples to make a match they think is better?” he raised his silvery brows questioningly.

Vurkanan shook his head.  “No, they will not split up couples who are already established…but what about you and Lythallendar?  Do you have a pair of bracelets for the two of you?”

“No…this is the only pair I have.  Lythas seems to think that they will allow him to stay with me regardless, because he’s always been a bit of a misfit due to his looks.  I think he may be right…they seem to be obsessed with mating the best and the brightest, and they would look at Lythallendar’s exotic coloring as a sign of bad stock.” he felt bile rose in his throat as he realized it sounded like he was talking about farm animals.

“I don’t like this one bit,” Aurora said, giving her father a very concerned look.  “They might find his looks a wee bit suspect, but I know how easily people fall in love with Daddy.  Can’t we make some sort of temporary bracelets for you two…sort of like an engagement ring?”

Lythas put his arm around his daughter to reassure her. “Lashran have nothing like that, dearest.  We shall simply have to watch ourselves and hope for the best.  If luck is with us, they will simply demand that we leave their waters and we can avoid a confrontation.”

Soon the Nandarian ship was within hailing distance, and it fired a warning shot at them.  Tsabrak gritted his teeth and considered ordering the cannons to fire.  With as quickly as the weapons on the Swordfish worked, they could sink the damned lashran ship and be gone before any of his people were the wiser.  Lythas gave him a warning look, as if he knew what was going on in his head.  He forced himself to calm down and wait as the Swordfish raised a parlay flag to indicate they meant no harm.

The other ship raised its own flag, and Tsabrak stepped up on the prow so that he could speak with the leader on the vessel.  They had agreed that he should speak as captain, to avoid any suspicions.  If they found that a lifebearer was running things, they might assume they were all outlaws.

Tsabrak was surprised to find that the recognized the sire who was in charge of the vessel.  “Hail, Demadas!  I have returned to see my family,” he hollered, smiling in greeting, “you are a ways from our home village…is there a council taking place?”

The other sire smiled in recognition.  “Ah, Tsabrak!  Wonderful to see you again.  We feared that you were a human vessel trying to trade with us.  Won’t you please disembark and come to the capitol with us?”

Tsabrak frowned.  “Vartros?  Or have they named another settlement as the capitol?”  The Humans aboard the Swordfish looked at each other in confusion, for the exchange was happening in the Lashran tongue.

Demadas nodded.  “Yes, my friend.  The Council has decreed that we rebuild our culture to its former glory.  All surrounding villages are migrating to Vartros, and the city has grown greatly, since you were last home.  Please, come with me and meet with the elders, so that you may better understand.  Many changes have taken place in our realms.”

Tsabrak stroked his chin in thought, his gaze flicking to the crew. “I have a crew made up of humans.  Do I have your word that no harm will befall them?”

Demadas looked a bit disconcerted with the news.  “All interactions with humans have been forbidden.  I suggest you leave all of your humans aboard your ship, Tsabrak.  I will give you my word that they are safe from danger while on the ship…that much I can promise.  Should they step onto Nandar soil, I cannot say what will happen to them.”

Tsabrak nodded.  Demadas was a good man, who had no great prejudices like the rest of their people.  He could trust him to keep that promise, he knew.  “Very well, the crew will stay on board.  I am bringing my brother and his lifemate with me, as well as my intended lifemate.”

As Demadas turned away in satisfaction, Tsabrak turned to the others and explained softly what was happening.  “Morgan, I shall try to keep in touch with you through telepathy, to let you know what is going on.  If we get into trouble, it will be your responsibility to do what you can to speed the Swordfish’s escape.  Do you understand?”

The young wizard nodded and squared his shoulders.  “I promise to do my best.”

“I want to come with you,” Aurora said helplessly, hugging Lythas. 

Lythas hugged her back, fighting his own misgivings.  “I know you do, Aurora…but this time, you must take control of the Swordfish and be ready to defend the crew and yourself.  We do not know how dangerous our people are now.  It’s best to be safe.”  He kissed his daughter and reluctantly stepped away from her, forcing a brave little smile to his face.

~xox~

“I have never seen so many of our people gathered in one place before,” Lythas said in awe as they finally made it to the city—which was still under construction, in some places.  It reminded him of a human city, except that the buildings were more intricate and elegant looking, and there was little or no trash in the streets.

Tsabrak was no less confused.  “How did they build this much, this quickly?”

Demadas smiled proudly.  “Our artisans, craftsmen and magic users have been working non stop since the new laws were passed.  I agree, the rate of progress is astounding.” he sighed and lowered his gaze pensively. “’Tis a shame that all of this is done out of fear.  I wish the elders would realize that humans do not pose the threat that they seem to think they do.”

“You look familiar to me,” Lythas said softly to him, his green eyes slightly troubled.

Demadas nodded.  “Yes.  I was among those who were against your exile for what happened between that human and you, Lythallendar.  I was present when the Council exiled you and gave you away to the pirates.  Forgive me for being unable to stop them.  You did not deserve such punishment.”

Lythas twined his hand into Tsabrak’s. “There is nothing to forgive.  It isn’t your fault that they made their decision.  I thank you for trying on my behalf, however.”

Demadas gave a gracious nod, and the beads woven into his long, brass colored hair clinked together musically.

~xox~

Lyre frowned as they made their way deeper into the city towards a huge, spiral-shaped temple.  He saw the fear in the eyes of the lifebearers they passed, and the broken spirits.  One of them, an extremely young man who was heavy with child, walked under the watchful eye of a tall sire that was clearly his bondmate.  The pregnant lifebearer cast longing eyes at a young sire across the square, who stared back at him with pain and love in his gaze.  The pregnant lashran’s mate noticed the exchange and scowled at the other sire, putting his hand on his young mate’s shoulder meaningfully.  The lifebearer winced and obediently turned his sorrowful eyes away from the sire that he was clearly in love with.

Lyre felt a growl rising in his throat as Coren’s temper rose within him.  These poor lifebearers may as well be wearing a collar and a leash.  Over half of them were visibly pregnant, and of the lot of them, he saw only a couple that seemed content.  He felt the tension radiating from his lover walking beside him, and Lyre put his arm around him and squeezed him comfortingly. 

“That won’t happen to you while I’m around,” he whispered in his lover’s ear.  He noticed more than one un-bonded sire eyeing Vurkanan appraisingly, admiring the way the lifebearer’s body was displayed in the tight black leathers.  Lyre removed his cloak and put it around Vurkanan’s shoulders to make him stand out less, and he gave each one of his lover’s admirers a dangerous glare.

Lythas glanced at his son to see his reaction to this place, and he did a double-take at the uncharacteristic look of aggression on his face.  “Keep a calm mind, Lyre,” he whispered in the Avran tongue.

Lyre started, then flushed guiltily at his father.  Lythas continued in a low voice “You are his bondmate, remember?  None of these would dare lay a finger on Vurkanan when he belongs to another.  Stop acting like a jealous lover and begin acting like one who is confident in his ownership.”

The young sire bit off a scathing comment that tried to surface.  He saw the pleading look in his father’s eyes and he reminded himself that this was just how things were, here.  He had to pretend that Vurkanan was his property, no matter how repulsive he found the idea.  His father had literally been a slave to his sire, once upon a time.  Things worked out for them in the end, but how many other slaves were so lucky?   

Biting down the revulsion he felt towards treating his lover in such a way, Lyre let his hand slip down Vurkanan’s back and he fondled his bottom openly.  The sorcerer caught on quickly and purred, rubbing against the caressing hand in a way that didn’t seem feigned at all.  The sires around them who had been showing interest in Vurkanan averted their gaze at the display, getting the hint.

Lythas gave a satisfied nod and a congratulatory glance to both of them, and then he snuggled closer to Tsabrak as he noticed a few sires giving him looks, as well.  More than one noticed that he was wearing no bangle, and their interest perked up.  Tsabrak saw it as well and the pirate slipped his arm around Lythallendar’s waist and gave each one of them a level stare, silently warning them that just because his lover wasn’t legally his yet, he was still off limits. 

Sires outnumbered lifebearers nearly two to one, as far as Lyre could see.  It was no wonder the competition for any available ones was so heavy.  He could almost feel pity for the ones that might never get the chance to perpetuate their bloodline through offspring, but there plight was no excuse to mistreat the childbearers of their race.

~xox~

Demadas slowed so that he was in step with Tsabrak, and he whispered a suggestion to him. “If I were you, I would petition for a bonding ceremony with Lythallendar as soon as we reach the temple.  There are strict laws now that no lifebearer who is in their breeding years may be without a mate.  If you do not take the Vashekna with him, the elders will choose someone for him.”

Lythas heard, and he paled.  “But surely, I am not someone whom they should see as a particular asset to the cause.  They exiled me!  Why would they want someone ‘tainted’ as I am to add to the lashran population?”

Demadas gave him an uncomfortable look and murmured, “They see things a bit differently now, Lythallendar.  The elders have changed their policies.  They began to wish that they hadn’t exiled you, for they now believe that your half human nature might add unexpected strengths to our people.  I do not know the full details, but from what I have gathered, you and others like you are an exotic rarity, and they have been considering finding out what sort of new blood could arise from breeding hybrids such as yourself.  I believe they wish to see how much of the lashran is taken away from such a pairing, and what new abilities might be gained.”

“But, I was hardly known,” Lythas argued, “even in my own village, few lashran even paid attention to me.”

Demadas shook his head.  “It has changed, Lythallendar.  One of the elders discovered something in his travels that he will not reveal to the public; something that he feels is important.  All that I know is that it has something to do with hybrids,” to Tsabrak, he said, “I will not lie to you my friend; if the elders deduce that you aren’t the strongest match for Lythallendar, they will have him bonded with another of their choosing.  Is he expecting your child, perhaps?”

Tsabrak squeezed Lythas protectively.  “No.  We had planned on waiting until after our Vashekna to begin a family.  He’s recently lost his mate, Demadas!  How can the elders expect to rush things this way?”

Demadas frowned.  “They are determined to rebuild what was lost.  I do not approve of some of their methods, but the Council’s decisions are law for us.  If Lythallendar were already pregnant with your offspring, they would not force him to bond with another.  I do, however, feel that you have a good case.  You are strong both in magic and physical prowess, and you are wise.  Perhaps there will be no need for them to test you.”

Tsabrak fought the shiver that worked its way through his body.  Damn it all, if he had known about this, he would have demanded that Lythas remain hidden on the ship.  The wild urge to run was so strong in him that his breath quickened.  Demadas noticed and hissed, “Do not be a fool, Tsabrak!  If you try to run now, you’ll surely lose your Lythallendar.  Try to be calm and collected.  I will put a word in for you as well.  I truly believe you have an excellent chance of being granted Vashekna with him.”

“I will kill myself before I allow anyone besides Tsabrak to couple with me,” Lythallendar promised grimly.

Shocked, Demadas stared into Lythallendar’s brilliant eyes.  The glowing, emerald orbs were determined and furious as they gazed back at him. 

“I am through allowing others to enslave me, Demadas,” Lythas explained in a low, almost purring tone, “I owe no allegiance to Nandar’s backward cause…not after they made it perfectly clear that I was not good enough for lashran society.  You can tell your elders that.  My loyalty is to my friends and my betrothed…and nobody else.”

Tsabrak spoke up, “And I will kill anyone who tries to lay hands on Lythallendar.  If the council wants to murder their own kind over this, by all means, tell them to try and choose a bond mate for Lythallendar.  As you can see, we will not be separated, Demadas.”

Demadas stammered and sputtered, completely at a loss for what to say. 

~xox~

They went through the proper procedures once inside the temple, and were introduced to the Head elder, Bakarus.  The sire looked young, as all lashran typically did, but they could see his great age in his eyes.  His long, copper colored hair hung in countless slender braids to his mid back, and his grey, slip pupiled eyes were penetrating and quick, missing nothing.  “So, the exile Lythallendar has returned,” he murmured softly as they all seated themselves in the round chamber, “and it seems he has brought his son with him.” his eyes snapped to Lyre.

Lyre managed a polite nod and squeezed Vurkanan’s hand. 

“Yes, Elder…we did not intentionally return, however,” Lythas said bluntly, “a storm caused us to drift off course on our way home.”

Bakarus narrowed his eyes.  “And where is home?” he questioned.

“Valkyrie Falls,” Tsabrak lied smoothly, hiding a smirk.  Let them try to search that paranoid city…it would be quite funny to see how many of their magic users ended up hanged or burned at the stake for witchery.

Bakarus whispered something to another elder beside him, who was, shockingly, pregnant.  “My mate, Valamir,” he explained with a fond look as the pregnant elder stood up and went across the room to pour tea for everyone, “we were pleasantly surprised when he conceived.  It is very rare for elder lifebearers to produce offspring.”

“Congratulations,” Tsabrak said with a touch of awe in his voice.  The pirate accepted the cup of tea the expecting elder handed to him with a graceful nod.  Once Tsabrak, Bakarus and Lyre were served, Valamir offered tea to Lythas and Vurkanan, and then poured one for himself.

Bakarus patted Valamir’s thigh familiarly as the lifebearer seated himself beside him again.  “Yes…we are blessed by the Forests in these troubled times.  I am most pleased to see you back, Lythallendar, though you did not come on purpose.  I have heard much about you from your home village’s elders.” he eyed Lythas thoughtfully as he sipped his tea, “now that you are back, there is no reason for you to leave your home again, little one.  We are very sorry for casting you out in our ignorance.  To make amends for it, I shall select the very finest sire for you.  You will bear only the most gifted children.”

Bakarus’ smile faded at the look of open hatred that spread across the raven-haired lifebearer’s fair features.  “I am promised to Tsabrak,” Lythas said in a low, dangerous tone.  His hands were suddenly shaking with anger, and his green eyes glowed.

“Oh dear,” said Bakarus softly, realizing just how different Lythas was from other lifebearers, “I did not mean to offend you, youngling.  Of course you are promised to our handsome Tsabrak.  I merely meant that we will make certain that he is the right match for you.  You must understand, we need the most gifted offspring during this time of our renewal.  Surely you can see how important this is to your people?”

If anything, Lythallendar became more angered.  He stood up slowly, and Bakarus stood up as well, instinctively shielding his mate from the unpredictable, pale hybrid before them.  “Do you have an aversion to listening, Elder Bakarus?  I will bed no man save the one I choose.  I do not give a damn about your latest laws.  I will bear no children at the whim of another.  If you cannot understand that, then you will have to kill me.  Right now.”

Tsabrak paled and stepped in front of Lythas.  “I won’t allow harm to come to Lythallendar, Elder.  You must understand, he has been living in exile, among humans, for several years.  Your laws are unreasonable to him, as they are to me.”

Valamir stepped forward and spoke in a low, melodic voice, “Oh come now…I will not have this talk of killing and bloodshed among my own people!  The council agreed that the selective breeding was the wisest course for us, but I will not allow lashran to die over it.  Young Lythallendar, I understand your passion, but the council stands firm.  Would you truly risk the life of your noble sire when there is likely no need to?”

Lythas stared at the older lifebearer with narrowed eyes.  Valamir was sincere in his desire to help them, but the elder was also deeply loyal to his people’s laws.

“Surely there is some sort of compromise we can make,” suggested Lyre quietly.  The other lashran turned to him in surprise, having forgotten that he was there, “You must understand, if my father refuses and you try to force him, I will be forced to defend him as well.”

Vurkanan nodded, “And so will I. I will not allow anyone to harm my bond mate or sibling.”

Bakarus held his hands up commandingly.  “Stop this nonsense!  Very well…I shall offer a compromise to you.  Tsabrak and Lythallendar, you will submit to examination by the council.  They will determine your fertility and breeding quality.  I have little doubt that they will object to the two of you becoming bonded, but should they insist on another match for Lythallendar, I will write up a contract saying that he is to bear only one child for the chosen mate, and after that, the Vashekna will be null and void, and he will be free to bond with Tsabrak.”

He gazed at each of them in turn, his eyes begging them to consider it, “Please, take my offer.  The decisions of this council are not entirely mine to make, and they would never accept simply allowing you to bond without their consent.  At least this way, if they do not approve of the two of you together, you will be free to be together regardless.”

“That isn’t good enough,” growled Tsabrak, bearing his teeth threateningly.  The guards had surrounded them, and it was looking worse by the minute.

Valamir spoke in a gently regretful tone. “You have no choice, Tsabrak.  My mate is offering you something that nobody else has had the privilege of receiving.” He turned to Lythallendar, who was beginning to look uncertain. “There is no guarantee that you will be passed off to another sire, youngling.  Would bearing one child for another man really be such a huge sacrifice to make, if it meant that both you and Tsabrak could live to be together?” 

Seeing the tears that were forming in Lythallendar’s eyes, Valamir sighed and stroked Lythas’ silken hair, whispering; “I know it is a horrible decision to make.  Desperate times call for desperate measures, youngling.  I know this better than most.”

“Tsabrak…stop it,” Lythas said in a defeated voice as the sire unsheathed his saber and parrying dagger, “It’s no good.  Please…do not die for me.”

Demadas was reluctantly leveling his crossbow at Tsabrak.  “Please, my friend…do not make me kill you,” he murmured, “Think of your Lythallendar, I beg you.”

Tsabrak shifted his golden gaze from Demadas to Lythas, who was now being held by two sires and relieved of his whip.  Turning to Valamir, he hissed; “Do I have your word as a lifebearer that Lythallendar will not be hurt in ANY way?”

Valamir understood his meaning, and he hesitated, stroking his distended belly with a troubled expression.  Finally, he nodded, ignoring the glare his lifemate shot at him.  “Yes…I swear to you that your Lythallendar will not suffer, should the council bond him with another.”

Lyre shot an anxious look at his father and at Tsabrak.  “What are you going to do to my Father?” he said in a rage, and before anyone could stop him, he tackled one of the guards holding Lythas. “Father…run!  Get out of here!”

Lythas grabbed his son and shook him, interrupting the guards that were moving to subdue the young sire.  “Listen to me, Lyre, this does no good! Any more outbursts like this, and they might decide to retract their offer, and I shall be truly doomed.  Please, for me…just do as you are told.  It will be fine.”

Lyre was breathing in hitching gasps as he studied his father.  He could see that it wouldn’t be fine…not if they tried to force Lythallendar to bed a stranger.  He could see the resignation of death in his eyes.  Lythas truly would end his own life before allowing himself to be violated. 

“Father,” Lyre choked, “Please…there has to be another way.”

Lythas caressed his son’s cheek and murmured, “All has not been decided yet.  Just wait and see.  Do not endanger yourself or Vurkanan further…is that understood?”

Bakarus shook his head in bewilderment.  “I do not understand why such melodramatics are necessary.  I believe I shall have to keep all of you under a close watch until the council has made its decision.”  He gave his lifemate a warning look as Valamir gazed at him pleadingly. 

~xox~

-To be continued


	7. Chapter 7

They were basically imprisoned in Bakarus’ home.  Lythas and Tsabrak were kept away from one another, in separate rooms.  “I am sorry, my friend,” Demadas said to Tsabrak.

The pirate snorted, “I know you are.  Now apologize.”

Demadas sighed heavily.  “What would you have me do?  I must obey the elders.  In a few short hours, they will examine both of you and the decision will be made.  This will all be over.”

Tsabrak’s amber eyes were angry and piercing as he snapped; “and what right do they have to dictate whether Lythallendar and I bond or not?  What happens if they decide to choose someone else for my beloved?  He will kill himself before he allows anyone to rape him, Demadas.  Could you not see the resolve in his eyes?”

Tsabrak blinked as his eyes teared up, “They are going to kill him if they make the wrong decision, and if that happens, I shall take every one of them down…mark my words.”

Demadas frowned.  “Why would he take his own life?  Would it not be better for both of you in the long run if he simply endured through one childbirth?  Bakarus said that the two of you could be together afterwards if the council decided on another Sire to mate with him.”

Tsabrak gritted his teeth and forcibly reminded himself that Demadas thought like any other Nandarian.  It was not his fault that he couldn’t understand.  “Lythas is not like the other Lifebearers.  He has inherited some Human ways of thinking, and has lived much of his young life away from Nandar.  To expect him to immediately embrace the way of life that the council is trying to force on him would be foolish.”

Demadas shook his head in helpless confusion.  “I wish that I could understand.  Is there anything that I can do for you, Tsabrak?  I cannot free you, but perhaps I can do something to make things better for you.”

The pirate measured his friend, wondering how far Demadas was willing to go to help him.  “Will you allow me to contact someone on our ship so that they will know what has happened?” he murmured.

Demadas seemed reluctant, but he nodded.  “Yes, so long as you do not intend on causing any trouble.  I will lock the door so that we are not disturbed while you work.”

~xox~

_~“Morgan!  Can you hear me, lad?”~_ The soft cry in his mind was urgent and hinted at trouble. 

“Excuse me…I have to check on something,” the young wizard said to Aurora, who he had been playing chess with to keep both their minds off of their concerns.  She waved him away non-chalantly, too busy with her own concerns to care where he was going.

Morgan entered his cabin and shut the door hastily behind him.  _~“Sir Tsabrak?  What is going on?”~_ he questioned mentally, hoping that the link was still there.

_~“We’re being kept prisoner by the Council, lad,”~_ came the response, _~“they seem to think that we should follow these new laws they’ve put up for Lashran.  They’re going to ‘examine’ Lythas and I tonight, to decide whether or not I’m a worthy match for him.  If they decide against me, Lythallendar will be forced to Bond with a stranger and bear his children.  We’re likely going to need your help.”~_

The young Bargel absorbed this with shock written all over his features.  _~“Bloody hell…I knew no good would come of you going there!  What do you need me to do?”~_

The voice in his mind sighed for a moment.  Relief?  Or consternation?  _~“My people are determined in their course; they believe that all Lashran should follow the council unquestioningly, and in their eyes, we belong to them.  If Vurkanan or I use so much as a whisper of our magic to try and escape, they will know it.  Therefore, we may have to rely on you to find a way to sneak us all out of here.  With care, we could be on the Swordfish and sailing away before they know we’re gone.”~_

_~“I hate to question you, but if you cannot use your magic, how is it that you’ve established this link to me?”~_ Morgan asked.

~“When you and I linked before and discovered that it was Vurkanan following us, I established a permanent bond with you.  I haven’t actually used any magic to communicate with you this way.  In fact, the effort is draining me quickly…I shall have to break our contact soon.”~

_~“But, if they can sense you working magic, couldn’t they sense me doing it as well?”~_

~“No, because they do not know how to track human magicks.  You Bargel are a mystery to them, as yet, so they would not be able to pinpoint the origin of the magic, if you were to use it to sneak in and get us.  My concern is that you might be discovered, and given the way they feel about humans, I don’t like the thought of what they might do to you.”~

Morgan shuddered.  _~“Maybe I should talk to Aurora about this?  She might have some ideas.”~_

With a soft chuckle, Tsabrak replied. _~“If you trust the lass’s judgement enough to do that, I’m open for any suggestions.  I imagine any solution she would come up with would involve lots of muskets and bloodshed, however.”~_

Morgan smiled slightly.  _~“She isn’t as bad as you think, Sir.  Aurora can be quite clever when she has to.  Can you contact me again in a few hours?  I’m certain that between the two of us, we can come up with something by then.”~_

The pirate sounded weary as he responded, _~“Very well, Morgan.  Do hurry…I don’t know what the outcome of this examination is going to be, and if it goes badly, I’m afraid for Lythallendar’s life.  According to Demadas, the bonding ceremonies are performed as soon as a suitable match is made.”~_

_~“That won’t happen while I’m alive, Sir,”~_ Morgan responded grimly.  Lythallendar had always been close to his family, and he thought of the lashran as a sort of father figure.

_~“Very good, lad.  See that it doesn’t.”~_ Tsabrak said, and then the contact was broken.

~xox~

“Are you ready, Tsabrak?” Bakarus questioned.  His ancient eyes were unreadable as he entered the chamber, flanked by two other sire elders and two guards.

The pirate smirked, noticing the way the guards kept their hands close to their swords.  “It seems I have no choice in the matter,” he answered sarcastically.

Bakarus nodded slightly.  “I am sorry it has come to force, Tsabrak.  You are a great asset to our people, and I cannot allow you to leave.”

Tsabrak shrugged.  “Whatever you say.  Just get the damned business over with so that I can get to bed.” My, he almost sounded like Coren Darshaw, now.  He couldn’t help but grin wickedly as he imagined the trouble his people would have had if it had been the weapons dealer they were treating this way.

“Drink this brew,” Bakarus said calmly, offering him the cup of steaming liquid.  “It will help you achieve the state you need to be in to provide the sample.”

Well, at least now he knew why there were only Sires present, and Tsabrak hoped that there would only be lifebearers present for Lythallendar, to spare the lad extra humiliation.  Keeping his golden gaze on the Elder, whom he was beginning to hate, he took the cup and sipped the warm drink down.  It had a vaguely minty flavor, pleasant enough on the tongue.

"Now disrobe and relax in the curtained area while the potion does its work," instructed Bakarus.  "I presume I do not need to instruct you on how to provide us the sample we require."

With a sigh, the pirate shrugged out of his robe and took the cup offered to him, before retreating behind the curtain to sit on the cot within.  At least they were affording him some measure of privacy, though the thought of pleasuring himself to completion with them standing out there like vultures made him shudder.  Despite his revulsion with the situation, he was beginning to harden with arousal as the medication did its job.

"Is this how you force unwilling citizens to cooperate with your forced breeding program?" challenged Tsabrak.  "You force enough aphrodisiac down their throat to get them too randy to protest?"

Bakarus hardly reacted to the accusation.  “We administer the brew to help those who have difficulty performing, if necessary.  Believe it or not, Tsabrak, you and your Lythallendar have been the first to openly defy us.  Others may be reluctant, but they understand the value in breeding a strong, new generation for the survival of our nation.”

Tsabrak flushed in humiliation as he squirmed restlessly, his masculine urges swelling to a painful state.  “Would you at least turn your blasted backs, while I do this?”

"We cannot see through the curtain, Tsabrak," answered Bakarus with amusement.  "But considering your situation, we will honor your request, if it will make this easier for you."

"You’re too kind."  Wishing he were anywhere but there, Tsabrak got started.  He tried to pretend he was alone with Lythallendar, and that the hand stroking his sex was the hybrid’s, rather than his own.  The medication made it possible for him to keep going, spiking his libido to the point where he hardly cared about his audience.  When he reached his climax he gave as much of his libation to the vial as he could, but it was difficult to aim when in the throes of drugged pleasure.  Flushed, panting and trembling, Tsabrak muttered that he was finished and he held the vial out blindly between the curtains, looking away.  Someone collected it, and another person offered his robe back to him.  Tsabrak put it on and stepped back out.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Bakarus said absently as he produced another vial of milky fluid that was a touch whiter than that which came out of Tsabrak.  “You may return to your quarters and dress as normal, now.”

“What is that?” the pirate asked, curious despite his anger and humiliation.  He grimaced down at the tent in his robe caused by his lingering erection, and he hoped the effects of the potion would wear off soon.  Not that it was uncommon to stay hard after the first two or three orgasms, but that usually occurred with a partner.  This wasn’t natural.

“It is Lythallendar’s fluid,” explained Bakarus as he poured it into the vial holding Tsabrak’s semen, “this is how we discover how easily a couple will conceive.”

“He is in excellent condition, Bakarus,” one of the other elders with an appraising look at Tsabrak, “There are no blemishes, no signs of illness.  He has good bone structure and healthy muscle tone.”

“Good, good,” Bakarus said softly as he withdrew a pouch and pinched a bit of white powder from it.  He sprinkled the powder into the vial containing Tsabrak and Lythas’ body fluids, then swirled it around and waited.

The mixture began to change colors, darkening to a peach tone as they watched.  Seemingly satisfied, Bakarus nodded to the others.  “I think we have our choice,” he said.

“Did you do this to Lythallendar?” questioned Tsabrak, feeling himself tense with anticipation.

Bakarus blinked at him.  “Of course not, Tsabrak…that would hardly be proper.  Only other lifebearers were present, and my own mate, whom you have met, supervised.  Now, why don’t you try and relax while I meet up with the rest of the council and inform them of the outcome?”

“What is the outcome?” Tsabrak questioned, his heart thundering.

Bakarus shook his head.  “You will be informed after the Council has met and we have made our decision.  I cannot speak for all of us at this time.”

He and his entourage turned and left the room then, locking the anxious pirate in.  Tsabrak then realized that he was shaking, and a sob rose within him.  He prayed to any kind deity that might be listening for he and Lythallendar to be together.  If the Council decided they were a good match, they would have plenty of time to formulate an escape plan.  If they didn’t, he would need Morgan’s help that much sooner, for his love would be in grave danger.

~xox~

In another room on the other side of the huge dwelling, Lythas paced back and forth, his green eyes straying to the porcelain vase sitting on the dresser.  He could break it.  The shards would be sharp enough to cut flesh.  He only needed a few moments to seek out the veins in his wrists and open them, freeing himself from a fate that was worse than death, in his young eyes.

Valamir had been gentle with his examination of Lythas, and the pregnant lifebearer was sympathetic with him, but he refused to answer any questions.  When Lythas had pleadingly asked how good the chances were of him being mated to Tsabrak, Valamir had looked away and whispered that he did not know.  Lythallendar had even sworn to the other lifebearer that he would end his own life, if they tried to make him bond with anyone besides the pirate, and the elder had shaken his head and replied; “I do not believe you will do that, youngling.  Not when you have the choice of being with your Tsabrak in the end.”

Now without hope and believing there was little or no chance of the Council letting him be with Tsabrak, due to the way both he and the pirate had behaved the other day, Lythallendar felt he had no choice.  He closed his eyes and let the tears he had been holding in slip out, drawing shiny trails down his pale cheeks.  “Forgive me, Tsabrak.  I wanted to give us a chance, but I’m afraid I am going to have to go to Coren, now.”

Squaring his shoulders, he took the flowers out of the vase and tenderly set them aside, and then he raised it up and brought it down on the edge of the dresser, hard.  He winced at the sound it made when it shattered, and he moved quickly, knowing that the noise would attract the guards.  With surprisingly steady hands, he selected a thick, sharp piece of the broken pottery, deducing that it was best suited for his purposes. 

Blinking back his tears so that he could see what he was doing clearly, he held his left wrist out and settled the ceramic shard over the smooth, white skin.  Taking a deep breath, Lythas pressed down hard and dragged the shard across his wrist.  He made a soft sound of pain as the skin parted and blood began to spurt out rhythmically.  With an odd sense of detachment, he watched the red liquid pump and nodded in satisfaction.  Good…he had severed the artery…it would go more quickly.  Though his fingers were becoming numb, he quickly transferred the shard to his left hand and repeated the action on his right wrist.  This one didn’t cut as smoothly, but he shrugged.  It mattered little…the wound was still deep enough to make the blood leave his body quickly.

With a hoarse, bitter laugh he sank to the carpet and leaned against the dresser.  His green eyes unfocused and his nostrils flared as dizziness assailed him.  He heard raised voices and footsteps running towards his room, but it was unimportant.  Bright spots danced in his vision and he slowly fell to the side.  The last thing he saw as he lost consciousness was the door swinging open and the Lashran guards hurrying towards him with shocked expressions on their faces.

~xox~

It took every once of control that Tsabrak possessed to stop himself from wrapping his hands around Bakarus’ throat.  “What do you mean, Lythallendar is hurt?” he said with a growl, “If you’ve done something to him, I swear I shall kill you with my bare hands, and your guards won’t be fast enough to stop me!”

Bakarus messaged his aching forehead and replied, “We have done nothing to him, Tsabrak.  My guards heard something shatter, and when they went to his room to investigate, they found that he had broken the vase in there and used one of the pieces to cut his wrists open.  Fortunately, they found him before the loss of blood could kill him.  I’ve seen to him myself.  His wounds are bound and he is in a healing sleep,” a hint of regret colored the Elder’s voice, and he sat down beside his mate, who stroked his hair soothingly, “I had no idea that young Lythallendar was so frightened of what our decision would be.  It is unheard of for a lashran to try to commit suicide!”

Tsabrak clenched his fist and narrowed his golden eyes in fury.  “How many times do you people have to be told?  Lythas is part human, and he does not think the way a typical lashran does!  If you had taken him seriously to begin with instead of going through with this bloody farce of an examination, he wouldn’t be lying in there half dead now!  I should kill you!”

As the pirate advanced a step, Valamir moved in front of his mate protectively, and Tsabrak stopped.  He certainly wouldn’t strike a pregnant lifebearer, no matter how angry he was.  “Please, Tsabrak…we aren’t accustomed to the workings of a hybrid’s mind.  None of us thought the young man would truly make good on his threats.  We only did as we thought was best for our people, and if Lythallendar had waited but a few moments longer, he would have learned that the Council has decided to allow the two of you to take Vashekna together.”

Tsabrak went still and he stared at the lifebearer.  “Truly?  You aren’t just saying this because he tried to kill himself?”

Valamir heaved a sigh, his soft eyes sincere as he replied, “Truly.  The tests showed that the two of you are a perfect match, and should easily produce many healthy little ones.  I only wish I could have looked into the future and known the outcome when young Lythallendar begged me to tell him what would happen.  I blame myself, Tsabrak…I should have stayed with him.  As soon as he recovers, the two of you will be escorted to the temple to perform Vashekna.  Myself and Bakarus will witness your consummation ourselves.”

Tsabrak shook his head.  “No.  That part of tradition is going to have to be sidestepped.  Lythas has been through too much to have to endure people staring at him like vultures while I make love to him.  There has to be some other way to satisfy the Council that we’ve been intimate.”

At a loss, Valamir looked to his mate.  “Beloved?  Is there some other way?”

Bakarus reluctantly said, “Well, I suppose I could examine him for signs of pregnancy a week after your Bonding night.  The council will declare the Vashekna null and void if they do not have some evidence of coupling between the two of you.  If you wish to keep your Lythas, as you call him, my advice to you is to get him breeding as soon as possible, so that they do not consider your bonding to be a fruitless match and reassign him to another sire.”

Tsabrak groaned and rubbed his temples.  This really was getting ridiculous! “So, what you are saying is that my poor Lythallendar must either put up with an audience on our Bonding night, or his belly has to start swelling almost immediately?  You keep a really short leash on your lifebearers, don’t you?”

“But, I thought Lythallendar wanted children,” Valamir said in confusion, “I noticed the tender little smiles he gives the little ones in the city.  I have never met a lifebearer with his demeanor who does not want offspring.”

“Look,” Tsabrak said crossly, “It isn’t that Lythas doesn’t want children, I just think you’re putting too much pressure on the fairer half by reducing them to a reproductive process. Lythallendar is a person, not an incubator; and the same goes for all other lifebearers.  What if he doesn’t conceive right away?  Don’t you think that stress is a slight contributing factor to how fertile a lifebearer is?  If you give him an ultimatum that he must get pregnant right away or be forced to bond with someone else, he might slit his wrists again!”  He was quickly losing his patience with these fools.

Bakarus nodded.  “Yes, I understand about that…which is why I am trying to be lenient on the both of you.  Our people are trying to build a better future, and the most important asset to the future is to have a new, strong generation.  Our numbers have dwindled, and the humans are everywhere.  We must survive, Tsabrak.  Surely even you can see that.”

The pirate sighed.  It was getting him nowhere to argue with this man.  His silvery eyebrows lifted as he suddenly realized that Vurkanan would likely be expected to have a swelling stomach soon too, and he nearly laughed at the image of his outrageous sibling trying to struggle into clothing that would not fit.  They had to get out of here…it was that simple.  To the two Elders watching him, he said; “I want to see Lythas.  Now.”

~xox~

Aurora paced like a caged tiger as Morgan explained what was happening to her.  The Swordfish was starting to run out of supplies, and if they were to stay on the coast of Nandar, they were going to need to either work out a trade with the lashran—a thing which she didn’t believe was possible—or they were going to have to find an uninhabited place to send a hunting and scavenging party.  Hearing that they were trying to force her father to mate with some stranger didn’t improve her mood in the least.

“I was thinking of going into the city invisible and trying to find them,” Morgan said as he watched her, “Then I could possibly cast an invisibility spell on them and we can all sneak back out.”

Aurora tapped the fingernail of her index finger against her teeth in thought. “That’s pretty risky for you, though.  How do you know they don’t have some way of detecting invisibility?”

He shrugged.  “I don’t, really.  Tsabrak said they aren’t used to Human magic and shouldn’t be able to locate me, even if they do sense me somehow.  It’s the only thing I can think of.”

She paced again, saying nothing for so long that Morgan wondered if she was actually going to let him try his plan.  Then she stopped, and her eyes lit up in a way that made him groan inwardly.  He braced himself as she spoke. 

“We could try a prisoner exchange,” Aurora said gleefully, her smile wicked, “If we can get our hands on one of their precious Elders, they’ll be forced to let Father and the others go.”

It was a good idea, but it was flawed.  “’Rora, we don’t know what any of the elders look like, or even if they’re left alone long enough to kidnap.  I’m not sure about how it works with lashran, but human leaders are constantly surrounded by bodyguards.”

Her smile didn’t fade in the least.  “Well, we’ll have to give one of them a reason to leave the safety of their guards then, won’t we?  You can work illusions, can’t you?”

He shrugged again.  “Of course…they’re easy to do.  What did you have in mind?” He listened attentively as she told him her plan, and the Bargel’s lips curved into a smile.  As he had told Tsabrak, Aurora was quite clever when she wanted to be.

~xox~

Tsabrak stared down at Lythas, blinking back tears.  How fragile he seemed.  He touched the lad’s arm, noting the thick bandages wrapped around both of Lythas’ wrists.  Anger rose within him again, and he longed to shout at the Elders, to tell them that they had driven Lythas to this and they should die of shame for it, but he didn’t.  He combed his fingers through Lythas’ thick, raven hair, smoothing strands from his closed eyes.

Tsabrak’s gaze went blank as he used this time to contact Morgan.  The Elders weren’t paying attention to him, content in their assumption that his stillness was due entirely to him focusing on his sleeping betrothed.

_~“Oh, thank the gods you’ve gotten in touch with me, Sir,”~_ Morgan’s excited mental voice answered him, _~“Aurora has a plan, and I think it’s a good one.  Can you give me an image of one of the more influential Elders?”~_

Morgan explained the plan in a rush, and Tsabrak thought on things for a moment before concentrating on Valamir.  The pregnant elder was the ideal candidate for a kidnapping, he decided.  The threat of harm to him and his unborn child should be sufficient enough to make the stubborn Council release them all, and the Lifebearer was unlikely to resist if he thought it would only cause harm to his baby to do so.

_~“He takes a walk in the forest every day, to get exercise for the upcoming birth,”~_ Tsabrak explained to Morgan as he sent a mental image to the lad.

_~“That’s perfect!  I intend to use illusions to make Aurora and I look like Lashran.  I’ll approach him and tell him my ‘mate’ is having a baby, and I’ll guide him and his guards far enough away from the city that our men can ambush them.”~_

Tsabrak almost nodded and smiled, but he didn’t want to give himself away to Bakarus, so he kept his expression neutral and caressed Lythas’ face.  _~“That’s a good plan, lad.  However, I want you to give us time before you carry it out…I’d like to see if we can get out of this mess with words instead of force, first.  The immediate danger to Lythas has passed, so we’ve got time to try and reason with them now.”~_

_~“And if that doesn’t work?”~_ questioned the wizard ominously.

Tsabrak shrugged mentally and replied, _~“If that doesn’t work, Bakarus is going to be beside himself with worry over his sweet lifemate.”~_

~xox~

“How is he?” Vurkanan whispered to Tsabrak as the sire stepped out of the room Lythas was in.  Lyre had just entered to see him, and Vurkanan felt that he needed a few moments alone with his stricken father.

“He’s recovering nicely,” Tsabrak answered with a frown, “but I daresay I’m not fond of him staying here for much longer.  Things have changed so drastically among our kind…it feels so militant.  I’d like to try to get us all out of here and safely on our way to Tariff, as soon as possible.”

Though they were alone in the hallway, Vurkanan still shot a furtive glance around them before whispering, “I agree completely.  I stumbled across one of the Elders who was there when they tried to force my seasonals to come…would you believe that he had the nerve to put his hand on my stomach and ask me why I haven’t conceived yet?!  How can they even tell?”

Tsabrak shrugged.  “I suppose they’ve become so attuned with their bodies and that of their people that it must be quite simple for them to sense whether a lifebearer is with child.  I can sometimes tell, without the usual signs.”

Vurkanan’s silver eyes were wide with panic.  “We must get out of here quickly, Tsabrak.  I adore Lyre, and I do believe he is the one for me, but it’s too soon to start having little ones with him!  We aren’t even truly bonded!  I’ve still got so much to do, and he is so very young-“

Tsabrak cut his sibling’s tirade off by pressing his hand against his mouth.  “Would you please calm down?  The Council doesn’t know you’re not bonded with Lyre, but if you keep yelping it out every time one of them pressures you, they’re going to find out!  Lie to them, if you must…tell them your time at sea has thrown your body off a bit, and you simply haven’t had your seasonals yet.”

Vurkanan clenched his jaw and hissed, “That is the problem…if I tell them I am having problems such as those, they’ll likely tie me up again and…and..” he shuddered and hugged himself, and Tsabrak became slightly alarmed.

“What exactly did they do to you when they tried to make you go into your seasonals, Vurk?  Did they violate you?” he dreaded the answer, but he needed to know just how dire the situation could get.

Vurkanan lowered his gaze and murmured, “I told you already.  They touched me…three of them.  I am sure that you know there are certain ways to stimulate a lifebearer’s body that sometimes can encourage them to go into seasonals-“ he looked up at Tsabrak, and the sire flushed slightly.  Yes, he knew…he was guilty of using one of those techniques on Lythallendar, the first night they made love.  It was almost an unconscious act on his part…the quiet hope that Lythas would go into season and perhaps allow Tsabrak to get him with child.

“I never thought my own people would turn to rape, no matter how desperate for offspring we may be,” Tsabrak whispered, his golden eyes unfocused, “if they’re willing to go that far, I wonder what other horrid things they would do to their own people.”

Vurkanan swallowed hard, and his voice was unsteady as he spoke again. “I think that we should try and find out what happened to Sire and Father after they left.  All that the Elders would tell me was that they are alive.” 

Tsabrak ran his tongue over his teeth in thought.  “Hmmm…I don’t think they were lying to you about that, Vurkanan.  Remember that the Council is bound by their oaths to speak the truth.  However, that doesn’t mean they must answer directly to questions asked to them.”

Vurkanan nodded.  “Yes.  I asked where Sire and Father were, and all they would say was, ‘We are not at liberty to divulge that information, but we can tell you that they are alive, and as far as we know, in good health’.  What could that mean, Tsabrak?”

The pirate narrowed his eyes and frowned.  “I have a feeling they’ve been exiled.  Unless our people have become complete monsters, they would never execute their own kind…not for something as trivial as protesting a new set of laws.  I suspect they’ve either been sent off with humans, as Lythallendar once was, or they’ve been relocated to another lashran realm.”

He clasped his younger sibling by the shoulders and whispered, “Try not to worry about it right now.  We’ll find them, with the help of young Morgan.  The Bargel sorcerers are excellent at divining.  I very much doubt we’ll learn a damn thing from the Elders, so don’t try to question them any further.  I want you to pretend that you’re adjusting to the new laws, Vurkanan.  Try to blend in more, as I will.  If we appear to accept the way things are in Nandar, they may let their guard down and give us the opportunity to leave, without putting anyone at risk.  Will you try to do that?”

Vurkanan grimaced.  Appearing to accept the lot in life that the Council was trying to force on him might mean he would have to become pregnant.  The idea terrified him.  “I do not know if I can do that, Tsab,” he whispered.

“We’ll think of something to keep them off your back.  Just try to blend in a bit, all right?”

Vurkanan sighed.  “Very well.  I shall try to do my part.  I want you to promise me, however; do not let them do…that…to me again.  I would rather die than suffer the humiliation.”

Tsabrak closed his eyes.  “Please, don’t say that.  I can barely cope with Lythas trying to kill himself.  I swear to you, if things get as bad as that, I have a more extreme plan that is bound to work.  I simply would rather not use it, unless I absolutely have to.”

Vurkanan looked mortified, realizing how seriously his brother took his statement, and how wrong of him it was to say something like that right now.  “I am sorry, Tsabrak…I wasn’t thinking.  Of course, I would not go that far.  I was being overly dramatic.”

The sire nodded, but he didn’t open his eyes.  Vurkanan saw a tear slip out from beneath one of the closed lids, and he hugged his sibling comfortingly.  “I will do my part,” he promised softly.

~xox~

Lythas awoke from his healing sleep to find Tsabrak dozing in the chair beside his bed.  The lifebearer wasn’t sure whether he was relieved that he had been stopped from killing himself or dismayed.  Biting his lip, he silently stared at Tsabrak, admiring the way the sire’s handsome face was relaxed in sleep.  His head was resting against the back of the chair, angled slightly and tilted back.  How long had he been watching over him?

Lythas struggled into a sitting position, still feeling a bit light-headed from his ordeal.  He carefully removed the stained bandages binding his wrists and examined himself.  The twin scars on either wrist were so thin they were barely noticeable on his pale skin.  They might even disappear altogether, given time. 

Lythas sighed and fell back, staring at the ceiling.  “What was I thinking?” he whispered aloud to himself.  To leave his children and Tsabrak behind like that, was he really that desperate?  He shook his head.  He had tried to commit suicide because he felt it was the only way out.  How selfish of him!  How would those he loved deal with such a thing?

He caught movement out the corner of his eye, and he turned his head to see that Tsabrak had woken up and was watching him.  The sire’s expression was both relieved and concerned.  “How do you feel, love?”

Lythas gave him a tremulous smile.  “Very weak, but relieved that I did not succeed.”

Tsabrak got out of his chair and sat himself on the edge of the bed.  He took Lythas’ hand in his and brought it to his lips to nuzzle the palm.  “Aye…we’re all relieved.  There would have been much suffering if you hadn’t survived, my gentle one.”  His golden eyes closed and moisture gathered on the thick silver fringe of his lashes.

Lythas’ mouth trembled as he whispered an apology. “I am sorry, Tsabrak.  I was not thinking clearly when I did what I did.  I just could not bear the thought of living as some stranger’s pet.”

Tsabrak nodded.  “I understand.  I only wish you had waited.  The Council’s decision was in our favor.  They wish for you and I to take Vashekna as soon as you’re feeling up to it.”

Lythallendar relaxed and gave a relieved sigh.  “Thank heavens.  I was sure they would force me to bond with another, after the scenes we created.”

Tsabrak gave a crooked grin and bent over the younger lashran to give him a lingering, soft kiss.  “Perhaps they thought that there were no other matches crazy enough to suite either of us.  We did make quite an impression.”

Lythas chuckled softly and squeezed Tsabrak’s hand.  “How is Lyre?  Have you been able to contact our friends on the boat, as well?” he didn’t want to mention Aurora out of fear that they could be monitored as they spoke.  Things were bad enough already, without the elders learning of her existence.

“Lyre is concerned for you, but he’s otherwise doing well.  He and Vurkanan have their own private quarters in this huge building now, so it seems they’re starting to fit in.” He winked at Lythas, and the lifebearer understood that it was all an act.

"As for our crew and friends, they’ve found a human settlement on an island not far from here, and they’ve dropped anchor on the shoreline and have taken up temporary residence there until they’re given other orders.  It’s a small fishing village that makes its income through trade with passing ships.  They used to trade with Nandar, it seems…but that’s all changed, now.  Everyone is fine.”

Lythas sighed and squirmed into a more comfortable position on the bed.  His stomach rumbled loudly, and he blushed as Tsabrak chuckled.  “I suppose we should take care of that,” Tsabrak suggested, placing a hand over Lythallendar’s growling abdomen.

“Yes,” Lythas agreed, “I am quite famished.  I shall be able to think more clearly once I’ve gotten some nourishment into my body.”

~xox~

Nightmares.  Ever since he had seen the elder named Grashem, Vurkanan was plagued with them.  Lyre sensed that something was wrong with his lover, but Vurkanan would not speak of what he had endured at the hands of the over-zealous elders before he ran away.  The young sire stroked Vurkanan’s hair and stared down at him as the lifebearer tossed and turned, breathing heavily in his sleep.  If he could have seen into his lover’s mind and witnessed the flashbacks that Vurkanan was having, he would have gone mad with fury.  Thankfully, Lyre had no idea what his lover was dreaming about.  He only knew that it was troubling Vurkanan deeply.

His own sobbing woke him up.  Vurkanan opened tear-blurred eyes to see Lyre’s handsome, caring face gazing at him with helpless frustration.  “My angel, will you please tell me what’s troubling you so?” his strong hands caressed the Lifebearer’s sweat beaded face, and his warm lips kissed the tears from his eyes, “You’ve wept in your sleep every night for the past three nights, Vurkanan…has someone hurt you?”  The fierce look that came into those jade eyes told Vurkanan beyond a doubt that Lyre would kill the person that tried.

For the safety of his lover, Vurkanan forced himself to calm down and give a slight chuckle.  “Do forgive me, sweet lion…I have merely had some odd nightmares lately…it’s nothing…truly!  I think it may have been something I ate.  Food can often have strange effects on the mind.”

Lyre glowered dubiously.  “I don’t believe you, Vurk.  You hardly leave our room during the daytime anymore, except to check on my father or visit your brother.  Please…I care for you, more than you know.  If someone is threatening you with harm, I want to know about it.  I want to protect you from whatever ails you, love.”

Vurkanan parted his lips and stared into his lover’s sincere, warm eyes.  He nearly came out with it, then and there.  The thought of what Lyre might think if he knew of his shame silenced him just as he was about to speak. 

Instead, he devised an excuse. “I am merely afraid for all of us.  Lythallendar caused harm to himself over what they might force him to do, and if they discover that you and I aren’t truly bonded, they might not allow us to stay together.  I suppose my fears have manifested themselves into nightmares.” he kissed him softly, “I am deeply touched by your concern, my fierce poet.”

He grinned in spite of the horrors of his nightmares as Lyre flushed in pleasure at the endearment.  “I promise you, I shall be fine.  For now, I think I would like to take a bath.”

Lyre frowned in puzzlement.  “A bath?  But it’s after midnight!”

Vurkanan quickly donned his robe to hide his nudity as he slipped out from beneath the covers.  He smiled over his shoulder at his young lover. “I know.  It is just that I perspired in my sleep, and now I feel rather dirty.  I’ll be back in bed with you within the hour.”

~xox~

Lyre watched him disappear into the bathroom and shut the door, and he rested his chin in his palm in thought.  It certainly was not like Vurkanan to behave in such a shy manner.  He didn’t miss the way his lover had hidden his nudity so quickly.  Something was going on with Vurkanan…something that caused him to be ashamed, suddenly. 

Lyre listened to the sound of the bathwater running behind the door, and he debated on whether he should go in and try to join him.  His instincts told him that Vurkanan wanted to be alone, however, so he sighed and rolled onto his back, lacing his fingers behind his head as he lay down and stared up at the ceiling.  He frowned again, for his sharp ears detected the muffled sound of shaken sobs behind the bathroom door. 

Putting the pieces together, Lyre deduced that someone had either molested or threatened Vurkanan, and judging by the way he’d covered his body from sight, it was a sexual attack.  Coldness settled around Lyre’s heart and he shivered. 

“What did they do to you, angel?” he whispered aloud.  He intended to find out, and make whoever was responsible pay dearly.

~xox~

-To be continued


	8. Chapter 8

“We can’t wait for whatever Tsabrak’s planning,” Aurora said stiffly.  It had been three days since Morgan had last had contact with the pirate, and the young woman was rapidly losing patience.

Morgan looked indecisive and almost desperate.  They had refreshed their supplies and were again floating as close to Nandar as they dared, waiting for further instructions from Tsabrak.  The Bargel hated to admit it, but he agreed with Aurora.  Worry ate at him like an insidious worm in his guts.  “What do you suggest we do?” he finally asked.

She paced the cabin, and his eyes followed her graceful movements of their own accord.  “I think you should ask your guild for help,” she said as she stopped and looked at him with narrowed eyes.

Morgan shook his head and sighed.  “I wish it was that simple, ‘Rora.  The Bargel only work in the best interests of their guild…which means that unless I give them news that the Lashran are out to wipe them out personally or offer a king’s horde of gold to them, we won’t get a bit of help.”

She put her hands on her hips in exasperation.  “Not even if you, one of their members, was in trouble?”

He spread his hands helplessly.  “This wasn’t a sanctioned expedition.  I chose to come here without payment or contracts, so as far as they’re concerned, my troubles are my own to deal with.  If there were more Bargel in danger than just me, they might do something, but I really don’t think just one of us is enough incentive for my guild to do anything about it.”

Aurora tapped her foot impatiently and chewed her nails as she considered other options. Morgan sighed. “I wish Nicolas was here.  I may not get along with him all the time, but he’s an excellent tactician, and we could use another good fighter.”

She smiled.  Morgan’s older half brother was in the knighthood; the Brotherhood of the Wolf.  It was an order that followed codes long outdated, yet they used modern weapons and were formidable enough to intimidate even the Bargel.  Of course, the Order wasn’t stationed in Tariff.  The old pirate haven was still running on most of the old cutthroat laws, and would not accept a guild that ran on martial law in its boundaries.  Nicolas was currently living in Toria and finishing up his training.  Though she found him to be annoying with his talk of honor and decency, she had to admit she hadn’t seen a better fighter.  He was one of the few people who could match her, though their fighting styles were very different. 

“Nicolas can be here, can’t he?” she asked with a gleam in her pale eyes.

Morgan opened his mouth and raised his eyebrows in surprise.  Of course…he had forgotten all about the pendant that he wore to keep in touch with his half brother.  When Nicolas insisted on training for the Order, Charlotte had demanded that Jahlad make up pendants for all of them so that they would not have to bother with letters to keep each other updated on how their lives were going.  He could teleport Nicolas here to help; though the effort would leave him drained for days.  His shoulders slumped as he considered what his brother would say about all of this. 

“I don’t know how much help Nick would really by, Aurora.  You know how he is; he might just say: _‘it’s their society, and we shouldn’t interfere with their way of life,’_ or something hair-brained like that.”

Aurora shook her head, “He won’t say that, Morgan—not if he knows that Lythas and Lyre are being held against their will.  He grew up with is too, remember?  Lyre got along better with him than the rest of us did, and he’s always loved Father.  He may be a jackass sometimes, but I think he’d tear a new one for anyone who he thought was hurting them.”

Morgan chuckled.  “When you’re right, you’re right.  I’ll see what I can do.  I still can’t promise he’ll come along, though.”

Aurora grinned like a cat.  “Don’t give him a choice, then.  While you’re fetching our paladin, I’ll go onto land with a couple of men and track down this Elder Tsabrak told you about.  I think we need to gather all of our chess pieces for the match.”

The Bargel coughed and stammered, “’R-Rora…you can’t just walk into lashran territory and expect Valamir to just fall into your hands!  He’ll be surrounded by guards!  What about our plan to draw him away?”

She snorted.  “Oh, yeah…that’d work.  As if his guards are going to leave him alone, even to help with a laboring lifebearer!  I’ll just have to take his guards out.  Don’t worry though; I can make up some cocktails to throw at them that’ll knock them all out.”

Seeing the bewildered and clueless expression on his face, she rolled her eyes and explained. “I’ll put some targash ammonia in some empty bottles and stuff some strips of rag into them.  I’ll light them before I throw them, and when they break, the ammonia will react to the fire and create a knockout vapor.  You understand?”

Morgan looked surprised.  “Oh, I never would have thought of that.  But what if they see you?  I really don’t like this, Aurora.  I think you should wait.”

She went to her dresser and dug out a deep green and black bodysuit.  The colors on the outfit were in a chaotic pattern, and Morgan was forced to admit that it would make good camouflage in the forest.  He watched as she pulled her raven locks into a tightly wound bun, so that it was out of her face and would not get snagged on branches.  He gulped and quickly averted his eyes as she carelessly shrugged out of her clothing and began to pull the bodysuit on. 

“I’m not going to wait, Morgan,” she explained, not the least bit embarrassed by her nudity, “Father and the others are in danger, so this has to go off now.  Don’t worry; I can sneak up on a bird pecking at the ground as well as any cat.  I won’t get caught.  Magic isn’t the answer to everything, you know.”

He kept his back turned and felt his face burning, even as his groin hardened with the picture his imagination provided.  “I know you’re good, Aurora.  I just don’t want to see anything happen to you.”

She chuckled as she fastened up the form-fitting outfit. “If something happens to me, you won’t be there to see it.”

He turned around impulsively, angry that she was being so casual about risking her life this way.  He swallowed hard and the words he was about to say lodged in his throat.  The camouflage outfit clung to her elegant, feminine curves like a second skin, and she was applying some sort of deep green body paint to the cleavage that was revealed through the opened V in the front.  Fascinated, he stared as her long fingers smoothed the paint over the tantalizing, creamy flesh that was exposed.  “What is that for?” he managed to croak.

“I’m covering all of my skin that might be exposed with this paint.  When I’m done, you’ll barely be able to see me in the forest.” 

She kept her blue eyes lowered to her bust as she carefully coated her skin first with the green paint, then dipped her fingers into the other jar on the dresser and began to add black to it.  She had to turn around and face the mirror to be sure that she got all of her neck, as well.  She looked at him briefly through the reflective glass as she drew the laces tight on the bodice, hiding her painted cleavage from his tortured gaze.  As she started to apply the mixture to her face and neck, he slowly approached her from behind.

“Here…let me help with that,” he said in a husky whisper, “You might miss a spot on the back of your neck.”

She shrugged and handed the jar to him, her sapphire gaze still locked with his in the mirror.  He took the jar in his numb hand and dipped his fingers into it.  “Not too much, or it won’t dry fast enough,” she warned softly.

Morgan nodded and carefully began to smear the paint over the back of her neck.  He softly kneaded the muscles as he did so, and she closed her eyes.  Staring at her lovely face in the mirror, relaxed in pleasure from the impromptu massage, the Bargel couldn’t stop himself from doing something that was probably foolish.  He brushed his lips across her neck, near her ear.  The area was free of paint, so he gently sucked on the skin, tasting the sea on her flesh.  Aurora’s eyes opened and regarded him with a burning intensity through the looking glass, and he wondered if he was in for some hurt for his actions.

His surprise was complete when she turned her head and kissed him full on the lips.  Her mouth was hungry and demanding against his, and he groaned softly and thrust his tongue past her lips to stroke hers.  His hands slid down to cup her hips, leaving a thin trail of paint on the camouflaged leather.  She pressed back against him, the roundness of her bottom rubbing against his hardened groin, and he pressed himself firmly against her and nibbled her lips. 

“Gods, Aurora,” he gasped, his hands sliding up her ribcage to cup the firm roundness of her breasts. 

He was too impassioned to care if she clobbered him for it.  When her breath quickened and she arched into the touch, he sought out the area where he thought her nipples might be beneath the leather, and he began to squeeze gently with his thumbs and fingers.  Aurora made a soft, shocked sound of pleasure, and he was rewarded when he felt two little pebbles harden and rise beneath the material.

She closed her eyes and sucked on his tongue as he fondled her breasts.  A soft moan vibrated in her throat as his actions pleasured her, and she pressed back harder against him. Morgan rubbed his erection against the cleft between her buttocks as he tenderly stroked her nipples and kissed her deeply. 

“I…should stop this,” she murmured uncertainly between kisses, but she didn’t make a move to try.  She allowed him to fondle her, and she didn’t protest as his fingers started to work on the laces holding her bodice together.

Breathing heavily with mounting excitement, Morgan pulled the top of Aurora’s garment open and exposed her breasts to the air.  They were half-covered in paint, but he marveled at the beauty and shape of them, and he cupped them lovingly in his hands.  They were small and firm, rounded just right.  She murmured his name in a slight protest, and he gently pinched her hardened nipples between his thumbs and middle fingers, then used his index fingers to rub the tips of them.  He kissed her again and she groaned against his mouth and began to arch against him.

Aurora gasped and sighed, her skin heating up as the throbbing in her loins increased with each moment.  Morgan’s mouth was determined and coaxing against hers as his fingers sent continuous, tingling pulses through her nipples.  “M-Morgan,” she cried huskily, tensing all over.  Her legs lost their strength, and the young Bargel supported her against him as she panted with sexual release.  He kissed her jaw and neck softly, smiling against her skin as he realized he had made her climax.

~xox~

Aurora slowly spiraled back to earth and realized she and Morgan were sitting on the floor, and she was leaning back into his embrace.  His hands were still cupping her breasts, but he wasn’t teasing her nipples anymore.  It was a good thing too, for the nubs felt so sensitive from his ministrations that even the air caressing them made them tingle. 

She twisted to look at him, her bright eyes narrowed slightly.  “How many girls have you done that to?”

“I…that is, I’ve been with…two,” he winced as she pursed her lips. 

“Just see to it that you don’t do it to anyone else but me, from now on,” she demanded softly, and then she kissed him hard, pushing her tongue into his mouth almost roughly, as if claiming her territory.  He didn’t object in the slightest.

After a few more heated kisses, they stared at one another and he whispered, “Does this mean you’re finally going to give me a chance, Aurora?”

She chewed her lip, as her father often did when he was considering something.  “I suppose none of us live forever.  Now, I should finish getting ready and pick out a few men to go with me for this job.”

Morgan sighed.  The party was over.

~xox~

Nicolas was pleasantly surprised when Morgan’s voice spoke into his mind through the pendant.  He set aside the sword he was polishing and smiled.  “It’s been a long time, little brother.  How do you fare?”

“Not as well as I would like, I’m afraid,” came the response, “do you have time to talk?  It’s fairly important.”

“Aye, Morgan.  I’m in my house, alone.  What’s the matter?” Nicolas frowned at the tired sound of his brother’s voice.

Morgan explained everything that had transpired in depth, knowing that his brother would take no action until he knew every tiny detail.  “We need you, Nick.  You’re a good planner, and Aurora’s lost patience since she found out that her father tried to kill himself.  Things are getting ugly over here.  She’s going now to kidnap one of the lashran elders.  We planned to do that anyways, but now I’m not sure it’s such a good idea…I couldn’t convince her not to do it, though.”

Nicolas ran his fingers through his dark hair and sighed.  “So, she’s off to abduct an innocent bystander, who really has nothing to do with all of this?  That is your idea of a solution?”

Morgan hesitated for a moment and said, “It was all we could think of.  If we take something important of theirs, maybe they’ll give our friends and family back.  Do you have a better idea?”

Nicolas smirked.  “Well, you might have tried threatening them with war.  It sounds like these lashran are only beginning to gather their forces, and they are sorely vulnerable to an attack from humans.  I’m sure they know it, too.  Why not try that?  Tell them that Lythas is an important representative of Tariff, which is actually true, and that if they do not free him and the others, they should expect hostile invasion of their lands, soon.”

~xox~

Morgan pondered this, liking the sound of it.  “That is a good idea…but we need someone who looks official,” he hinted.  His brother was tall, well built and had the confident grace of a natural leader.  His collar-length, dark brown hair was always kept well groomed, and though he often boasted dark stubble on his jaw, it merely lent to the imposing appearance.  Women fell all over themselves trying to get the handsome knight’s attention, but Nicolas was too honorable to take advantage of any of them.  He was a well-spoken gentleman—surprising, considering the environment in which both he and Morgan were raised.

“What are you trying to say, Morgan?” questioned Nicolas suspiciously.  Unfortunately, he wasn’t the subtle type that caught on to hints.

Morgan sighed.  “I’m talking about you, idiot!  I want you to let me teleport you here, so that you can help us.  You can claim to be a representative from Tariff…even a king, if you want.  You’re the only one of us that would be convincing.” the last was said a bit enviously.

“Very well…allow me to collect some things first,” Nicolas said at length.

~xox~

As silent and undetectable as death, the young woman lay stretched out on the tree branch, blending in perfectly with the environment.  The only thing that betrayed her presence was a pair of startling blue eyes that peered out from behind the leaves, but only someone looking directly at the branch above would have noticed.  Her breathing slowed and shallowed with controlled practice as her prey came into sight, chatting softly with his bodyguards as he walked the worn path into the woods. 

Valamir stood out quite well.  His thick, waist length wavy hair was a deep shade of red, and blended in with the red were highlights of gold and orange.  It reminded her of leaves in the autumn, or a vivid sunset.  His golden robes shimmered, complimenting the lovely bronze tone of his skin, and the small, crystalline beads woven into his vivid mane sparkled and chimed pleasantly together.  For a moment, Aurora stared at him and appreciated his vivid beauty.  Where Vurkanan was moonlight, Valamir was sunshine. 

The Elder laughed softly at something one of his bodyguards said, and he stroked his rounded abdomen and replied in a low, musical voice.  Aurora shook herself out of it and concentrated on the job at hand.  As they passed beneath her hiding spot, she smoothly reached into pouch tied around her waist and produced one of her cocktails.  Keeping her eye carefully on the group of lashran beneath her, she flicked the spark wheel she had brought with her, bringing it close to the oil-soaked rag that was stuck into the bottle of ammonia.  She silently swore in frustration as the rag refused to spark, and for a moment, she feared her prey was going to get out of reach.  Her breath exploded in a rush of relief when the spark finally caught the cloth on fire, and she tossed the bottle to the ground with practiced ease.

Valamir looked up at that moment and he saw her dropping the green glass bottle.  The elder parted his lips in confusion as the bottle arched towards him, and one of his guards noticed the look and turned.  It broke when it hit the ground, and the bodyguards stepped in front of their charge protectively, thinking that someone was trying to hit the elder with launched objects.  There was a hiss and a sizzle, and a green colored cloud rose from the broken bottle.  “Step back, Elder Valamir,” one of the guards said grimly.

The other one saw Aurora toss another bottle down, and he pointed into the trees with a startled exclamation.  The second bottle landed behind Valamir, and the Elder coughed as he inhaled the resulting vapors.  His guards tried to pull him away from the cloud, but Aurora threw yet another one, and all three lashran inhaled enough of the ammonia to make them stagger and fall to the ground, unconscious.

Aurora grinned at her triumph and dropped out of the tree with feline grace.  She produced a scarf and wound it around her nose and mouth to protect herself from the fumes, then crept forward and checked the fallen lashran to make sure that none of them had cracked their heads open when they fell or otherwise damaged themselves.  Once she was satisfied that there was no lasting damage, she unwound the length of cord she carried on her belt and bound Valamir’s wrists and ankles tightly, yet not so tight that it would cut off the circulation in his hands and feet.  She gagged the elder and dragged him off into the forest with a strength that belied her small frame. 

Moving as quickly as she could, she brought him to the river where her men waited with the longboat.  The river fed into a lagoon, which they had anchored the Swordfish at.  Morgan would drop the invisibility illusion once he saw her and her men coming. 

~xox~

“Damn it all…I missed her!” growled Morgan as the crew informed him that Aurora had already disembarked with a small group of men.  His conversation with his brother had taken longer than he thought.  He had hoped to call off the abduction and tell her Nicolas’ plan, but it was clear that the impetuous young woman had decided to leave early.  Tapping his fingers on the wooden railing, he waited in tense silence for any sign of Aurora’s band.

Fortunately, he did not have to wait for long.  His knees went weak with relief as the longboat drifted into the lagoon, and he could see that they had the elder with them.  His feelings about this were mixed.  On the one hand, it gave them an advantage in their negotiations with the Nandarians.  On the other, it might infuriate them into threatening Lythallendar and the other’s lives. 

“Just how much does Valamir mean to his people?” he wondered aloud as the longboat reached the Swordfish.

“Well, it went as smooth as a babe’s bottom,” Aurora said when she and the others boarded the ship.  She frowned at the look on Morgan’s face as he stared at the unconscious lashran one of the shipmates held in his arms.  “What the hell’s the matter, Morgan?  We agreed that this is the best way!”

“I know that, ‘Rora…I’m just a bit concerned.  I contacted Nicolas, and he’s agreed to let me teleport him here, but he came up with a suggestion that I would have liked to try, if you hadn’t taken off so quickly.”

Morgan explained his brother’s idea to her, and Aurora shrugged.  “Aye, it was a good idea, but what are you gonna do?  We’ve already kidnapped Valamir, so unless you can make him forget we’ve done this and magick him back home, we’re going to have to stick with the original plan.”

Morgan massaged his temples and groaned.  “I suppose you’re right.  I’d better teleport Nicolas here now, and explain what happened to him.” 

He didn’t relish the thought of the tongue-lashing they were likely going to get from his older sibling, but there was nothing he could do about it.  Not caring who saw, he seated himself cross-legged on the deck and clasped the pendant around his neck, then began to chant softly.  He changed the pitch and tone of the chant as a glowing circle formed on the deck in front of him, and then he began to make the appropriate hand motions. 

It was the strangest sight; it looked as though Nicolas Dewinter suddenly rose up from a glowing hole in the deck.  He was seated on a large chest, and he was dressed to kill, so to speak.  Brown leather breeches, black riding boots, a black shirt with flowing sleeves, and of course, the tunic of his Order-a velvety black, silver embroidered tunic with the symbol of a wolf’s head stitched in silver on either side.  His huge Claymore rested in its scabbard across his back, and a musket was holstered at his hip.  Morgan ended the spell with a gasp and pulled his knees up, resting his head on them.  Nicolas looked around him, then down at his brother.  A slight grin formed on his lips. 

“I was wondering if you were ever going to get around to it, Morgan.  That chest isn’t the most comfortable seat in the world, you know.”

“I’m sorry,” Morgan panted in exhaustion, “I was trying to find Aurora to call off the kidnapping,” he waved a hand towards the unconscious lifebearer, whom his men had lain down on some blankets. “As you can see, I wasn’t fast enough.  That’s Valamir.”

Nicolas looked at the lashran, and something in his face changed.  It took Morgan a moment to realize that his expression had softened into the closest thing to surprise he would probably ever wear. 

~xox~

“ _This_ is the elder?” questioned the knight softly as he knelt in front of the prone figure, “I see.  I expected a more…well…mature looking individual.  He appears to be no older than us.”

“Lashran don’t physically age,” said Aurora in explanation, “Father told us that lashran can live to be thousands of years old, without aging a day.”

"It’s due to the regenerative properties of their cellular structure, according to scientists," added Morgan.  "They’ve only just begun to understand lashran anatomy, however."

Nicolas scratched his chin and brushed aside strands of Valamir’s brilliant hair so that he could get a better look at him.  He went still for several moments, staring down at him.  “How old could he possibly be?” he murmured, “I should think the world would be overrun by these people, if there are no deaths to balance out the births.”

“Well, they aren’t immortal,” interjected Morgan wearily, “Don’t you remember how sick Lythas got that year, when he contracted pneumonia, and Coren had to pay the doctor to live at their house for a week?  They’re just as susceptible to disease and sickness as we are, though their natural regenerative abilities allow them to heal faster.  They aren’t the most fruitful lot, either.  Tsabrak told me that there were at least two sires for every lifebearer in Nandar, and lifebearers are normally only fertile for one hundred-fifty years or so…not very long, in the lifespan of a lashran.”

Aurora added, “So really, they do have problems popping out babies, if you think about it.  If only one out of five babies born to each lashran are lifebearers, you can imagine the problems with spreading the population.  Aside from turning to inbreeding, there’s not much they can do to assure their population is going to grow.  They’ve even started treating their lifebearers like exotic pets…the poor things don’t even get to choose when to have children anymore…or who with!  That’s how scared they are, Nick.  That’s why we have to get Father and the others out of there.  Right now, they’re sticking with this ‘selective breeding’ stupidity, but who knows what they’ll do next?”

“What do you mean?  What more can they do?” questioned the knight, momentarily distracted from his examination of the their captive. “And forgive me if I’m wrong, but our guest looks like he’s pregnant, and he is an elder, is he not?”

Morgan nodded.  “Yes…he’s a special case.  Sort of a miracle, from what Tsabrak told me.  I don’t know much about him, except that he’s a rare exception.”

Aurora’s blue eyes were unusually fearful and earnest as she said, “I don’t know for certain, but Tsabrak warned my father long ago not to let the Lashran find out what I really am.  He seems to think if they find out their blood all but cancels out human blood when they crossbreed, they might do something…drastic.”

Nick’s expression remained calm, but grim.  “Like experimentation?  Possibly testing hybrids’ breeding potential?”

Morgan grimaced and put his arm around Aurora protectively as she shivered.  “Yes, that sort of thing,” she said in a whisper.

Morgan made a shushing sound and looked behind Nicolas, and the knight turned to see that Valamir was waking up and struggling to rise.  The elder stiffened, apparently realizing that he was having so much difficulty moving because he was bound.  He looked around in bewilderment and tried to speak, but the gag in his mouth muffled the sound and made it an incoherent grunt.  He finally saw all of the humans looking down at him.  Nicolas was momentarily startled as the lashran blinked luminous, deep violet eyes at him in confusion.  He cleared his throat gruffly, unsettled by the vivid range of colors Valamir’s features boasted.  It was like looking at a beautiful, exotic bird transformed into a person.

The elder’s expression changed from one of confusion to one of fear, and he shrank away from his captors and made a pitiful attempt to cover his belly with his bound hands.  There was anger mixed in with the fear in his eyes, however, and Nicolas understood as he gazed into those deep orbs that this being was indeed old…and dangerous. 

“Can he understand the Avran dialect?” the knight questioned, without taking his deep brown gaze off of the elder.

“Yes,” replied Morgan, “That much, I do know for sure.  Most of them are taught to speak at least some of the human languages, and it’s a requirement that they know it before they can join the Council.  Of course, that’s probably going to change, now that they’ve cut off trade with humans, but I’m certain Valamir can understand our tongue.”

Testing, Nicolas spoke to the elder.  “Can you understand me, Elder Valamir?”

The lashran stared at him in supposed incomprehension, and Aurora hissed, “You might as well drop the bloody act.  I was adopted by a lashran, and I know you understand the human tongue.”

Valamir narrowed his eyes at her, clearly understanding her words and not much caring for her tone.  “Do you know why you’re here, Lashran?” said Nicolas firmly, drawing his gaze back to him.

Valamir shook his head and tried to squirm away from the knight, apparently intimidated by him.  “I will not hurt you,” Nicolas said in a more gentle voice. “None of us have any intention of harming you or your unborn child, so long as you cooperate.  Your people are holding some friends of ours against their will; Lythallendar, Tsabrak, Lyre and Vurkanan.  They didn’t want to come back to Nandar…they drifted into your waters by accident.  Word has reached my people that they’re being held captive.”

The lashran’s auburn brows drew down and he shook his head in denial and mumbled something through the gag.  Nicolas looked up at his brother questioningly, and Morgan gave a slight nod and lifted his amulet to show that he was ready to counter any magicks the elder might try against them. 

Turning back to Valamir, Nicolas said; “I’m going to remove your gag so that we may speak to one another in a more civilized manner.  Be forewarned that my brother is a Bargel sorcerer, and he is quite formidable in the magic arts.  Should you utter a single word that sounds remotely like a spell, he’ll counter it, and the gag goes back on.  Do you understand?”

Valamir stared from Nicolas to Morgan and back again, considering them.  Finally, his purple eyes settled on the knight, and he nodded.  He flinched involuntarily when the powerful man moved close to him and reached out to untie the gag. 

“I think he’s more afraid of my brother than he is of me,” whispered Morgan to Aurora.  She grinned and nodded in agreement.

Nicolas removed the gag and sat himself cross-legged in front of him.  “Well?  What were you trying to say?” he questioned softly.

~xox~

Valamir swallowed as he tried to work moisture back into his mouth.  The human in front of him was quite handsome in a more rugged way than he was accustomed to, yet forbidding and stern.  He seemed to be a leader among his kind, for the easy grace and confidence that his aura exuded.  He was afraid of the dark haired young man for reasons he didn’t quite understand, and at the same time, he was fascinated by the dark stubble that was sprouting all over Nicolas’ square jaw and above his upper lip.  Hesitantly and curiously, Valamir reached out and touched his fingertips to the man’s face, quickly running the pads up and down the roughness of the stubble before he realized how foolish he was being and jerked his hand back as if it burned.

The knight smiled at him, flashing white teeth.  “I thought that you lashran elders were used to the sight of facial hair?  Lythas told me that you used to trade with my race, before the new laws passed.”

Taken off-guard by the smile and the warmth that spilled into the man’s eyes as he spoke, Valamir answered softly. “I do not originally come from a trading village.  You are the first of your kind I have ever seen, face to face.”  That much was true.  He never made it into battle against the humans, when his people went to war against them two millenniums ago.

Nicolas nodded in understanding.  “I see.  Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to finish our discussion, so that you will better understand why you’re here.  What is it that you were trying to say before, when I told you about our friends?”

“I was trying to inform you that they are not captives.  Not in our eyes.  They are Lashran, and they belong with their people.  The new laws may be strict, and perhaps unfair at times, but it is for the good of the Lashran of Nandar that the Council has made them.  You cannot possibly understand.”

Aurora approached with her fists clenched, and Nicolas gave her a warning glare.  She forced herself to calm down as she spoke.  “No, it’s _you_ who can’t understand, Elder!  My Father and brother aren’t part of your society.  Your people cast Lythallendar out years ago, and that makes him exempt from your laws.  Vurkanan is bonded to Lyre, which makes him exempt as well, and Tsabrak has never truly been a part of your society.  What you’re doing is keeping them prisoner, and if they aren’t set free, you’re never going to see your baby born, and your Bondmate will never see you alive again!”

~xox~

It was actually an empty threat.  Aurora would never be able to bring herself to harm a pregnant individual and everyone there knew it—except for Valamir.  The elder paled and his breath quickened with anxiety.  He turned his body away from the young woman in another pitiful attempt to protect his unborn child.  Nicolas felt a surge of pity for him, though it didn’t show on his expression. 

“Calm down, Aurora…nobody is going to hurt anybody…especially a pregnant lifebearer.  Here now…you’re safe.”  Despite Aurora and Morgan’s protests, the knight pulled his knife out of the sheath in his boot and cut through the lashran’s bonds.

Valamir stared at the young man in frightened confusion as Nicolas took his long-fingered, graceful hands in his battle-scarred, callused ones and began to rub them briskly to encourage the circulation back into them. 

“She’s afraid for her family,” he explained apologetically. “We have taken you hostage to insure that no harm comes to our friends and associates.  What will happen, should your Council refuse to release Lythas and the others, is a war.”

Valamir’s eyes rounded and dilated in shock.  “A…a war?” he said uncertainly, “Over this?”

Nicolas nodded grimly.  “Lythallendar is an important figure in my homeland, and by forcing he and his compatriots and son to stay in Nandar, your people are declaring hostile intentions, in the eyes of my people.  I’ve come as a negotiator, to stop this before it goes too far.  We will exchange you for them.  If your Council refuses to agree to those terms, I will send a message to my Order to commence the attack on your homelands.”

He leaned closer to the shocked lashran and narrowed his eyes, “trust me, Elder.  We’ve got a strong enough army and naval fleet to wipe your city out and free our friends by force.  Nandar won’t stand a chance, if it comes to battle.”

Valamir searched the Knight’s eyes for any sign that he was bluffing.  Finding none, he was forced to admit that Nicolas was correct.  His people were not strong enough to withstand an all-out assault from the humans, and the ancient weapons had yet to be unearthed from their tombs…or even found, for that matter.  The thought of ever having to use them again gave him dread.

~xox~

-To be continued


	9. Chapter 9

_~“Morgan, can you hear me, lad?”~_ Tsabrak prayed that the young Bargel was not asleep. He needed to find out some information so that he could prepare the others, if what he suspected had happened.

_~“Where have you been?!”~_ came the snapping reply, laced with relief.

Tsabrak chuckled. _~“I’m sorry to wait so long, but things have been rather busy here. Lythas is recovered from his ordeal, and we’ve taken the Vashekna. They really didn’t give us time to think, either. Fastest bonding ceremony I’ve ever seen, let alone been a part of. We are in our room now, and Lythas is taking a bath. Now, down to more important matters. Elder Valamir has come up missing, and Bakarus is tearing up and down the forests and beaches looking for him. Did you and Aurora have anything to do with that?”~_

He hoped that they did and that the missing Elder wasn’t truly in danger. He rather liked the soft-spoken lifebearer, even if he followed the laws a bit blindly.

~“Yes sir…we did have something to do with that. I teleported my half-brother, Nicolas here as well. He’s come up with some excellent ideas, though I don’t know how comfortable I am with him taking responsibility to guard Valamir.”~

_~“Why is that?”~_ Tsabrak said in puzzlement.

There was a soft sigh from the mental voice of the Bargel before he answered. _~“I don’t know, really. It’s as if he can’t help himself. I’ve never seen Nicolas stare so much at anyone, but he hasn’t really shown the typical signs of interest I’d normally associate with someone who’s sexually attracted to a person, so I don’t know what to think.”~_

Tsabrak grinned. Nicolas, if he remembered the young man correctly, had always been aloof and a bit difficult to understand. _~“Does he normally show interest in women?”~_

There was an uncertain pause, and when Morgan replied, his tone was a bit surprised. _~“Now that you mention it, I’ve never seen my brother involved with anyone. He’s got tons of women fawning over him, but I’ve never seen him return their affections. Oh hell…do you think he likes other men? Could someone as…as…you know…er…strong as Nick have those kind of urges?”~_

_~“Calm down, lad,”~_ Tsabrak said, snorting with laughter at the nearly panicked tone in Morgan’s voice. He clearly didn’t know how to cope with the idea that his brother might like men, even though he had been raised around that sort of thing. _~“If you recall, Coren was one of the most ‘macho’ fellows there was, and he certainly leaned that way—even if he didn’t admit it to himself before he met Lythallendar.”~_

Getting the feeling that Morgan needed a little more than that, Tsabrak offered some gentle logic. _~“Perhaps Nicolas is just startled by Valamir’s appearance. He’s quite a glorious looking creature, after all, and his hair and eye color are prized among my race. I can imagine how it might be for a human who isn’t used to our kind to see such vivid colors manifest on a person. Even if it is sexual attraction drawing him to Valamir, he’s still your brother.”~_

Morgan seemed to breathe easier. _~“Aye…even Aurora stares at him sometimes. That color combination in his hair is really stunning. No offence, but I hope that’s all it is. I have nothing against men or women loving each other, mind you, but it wouldn’t be very healthy for him. Valamir is already bonded to another lashran, and he’s going to have a baby. It would be awful if Nicolas fell for him, sir.”~_

Tsabrak nodded. _~“Yes…that would be awful, but let’s not be hasty. What does your brother have planned?”~_

His grin spread from ear to ear as Morgan told him the story that Nicolas was using. _~“Oh, that’s brilliant. I’m starting to feel more relaxed now. Please, feel free to send a message to Bakarus and begin the plan. The sooner we get out of here, the better.”~_

~xox~

Tsabrak broke the contact when Lythas emerged from the bathroom. He stared at his new bondmate with the breathless expression of someone deeply in love. Lythas smiled shyly at him as he sat on the edge of the bed and continued to towel dry his hair. There was a question in his bright eyes, but he would not voice it aloud, for fear that their room could be magically monitored for eavesdropping.

Tsabrak approached him and held his hands out. “Allow me, gentle one,” he murmured.

Lythas handed the towel to him without argument, and he sighed in pleasure as the sire took off where he left off, his long fingers massaging his scalp as he worked. Leaning close to Lythas, Tsabrak whispered softly into his ear. “Valamir is in the hands of your daughter and Morgan. Nicolas is with them, and they’ve a plan.” with that said, he nibbled Lythallendar’s sensitive earlobe and placed a kiss on the side of his neck.

Lythas shivered in delight and nodded ever so slightly, to indicate that he understood the soft message. Tsabrak continued to dry the tumbling locks of midnight hair until he was satisfied that they would dry in the air quickly. Due to the loss of blood he’d suffered through mere days ago, Lythallendar’s immunity system was likely weakened, and Tsabrak didn’t want him to catch a cold. He hung the towel over the dresser and embraced his mate warmly, rubbing his back. Lythas rested his cheek on his chest and snuggled against him, and Tsabrak closed his eyes against the torrent of feelings that surged through him.

Kissing the crown of his head, the sire murmured; “It will get rather chilly tonight. What do you say I light the fireplace?”

~xox~

Lythas nodded and brushed his lips across Tsabrak’s throat, making him shiver. “Yes, that would be lovely,” he answered softly.

He bit his lip to hide the grin that tried to form on his mouth as Tsabrak stood up and turned to the ornately decorated fireplace in the far wall of the room. It was quite obvious that he was aroused, though he tried to move in a way that would conceal it slightly. They hadn’t made love since that first night, simply because things had been so hectic since then that they hadn’t had the chance. Lythas tingled in nervous anticipation as he watched his handsome new lifemate crouch before the prepared fireplace. Remembering the box he’d placed beneath the bed, Lythallendar snapped his fingers and got off of it. He got on his hands and knees on the floor to search for the gift.

~xox~

Tsabrak hissed in annoyance when the kindling wouldn’t catch the sparks from the flint. Losing patience, he muttered, “I don’t care if they know I worked magic; this is ridiculous!”

He concentrated for a moment and made a gesture with his hand. The kindling crackled with protest and burst into flame. Smiling in satisfaction and giving a smug nod at the fireplace, he stood up and turned to go back to the bed. He tilted his head a bit and furrowed his brow when he saw Lythas on the floor, digging beneath the bed for something. The sight of the lifebearer’s robe-clad, firm little rump sticking up made Tsabrak’s groin throb, and he flushed as several images flashed through his mind, involving himself, and Lythas in that position.

Tsabrak forced himself to calm down, and he cleared his throat so that his voice wouldn’t come out as a growl of desire. “What are you doing, love?”

“One moment, dear one,” Lythas responded without looking back.

Tsabrak smiled in pleasure and his heartbeat picked up. Always before, Lythallendar had called him by his name, or simply “Tsab”. This was the first time he had ever used an endearment towards him. He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, gazing down at his mate with a combination of amusement and arousal. How did Lythas manage to be so adorable and so desirable at the same time? The lifebearer finally found what he was looking for, and he straightened back up with a fairly flat, square box held in his hands. It appeared to be made of Moon wood, a native tree that could only be found in Nandar. It was so named because the wood was as white as marble. The box was lovingly crafted with Lashran symbols etched into it.

Lythallendar’s emerald eyes sparkled as he presented the box to Tsabrak, and the sire lifted a silvery brow in question. “A bonding gift for you,” Lythas explained with a smile.

Taking the box in suddenly unsteady hands, Tsabrak murmured, “Oh, Lythas…I didn’t even think to get something for you!”

Lythas gave him a soft kiss on the lips and whispered, “Yes, you did. The night we fled Valkyrie Falls, remember? You gave me that beautiful clock. Open it.”

Tsabrak thought that the box alone was exquisite enough by itself, but when he opened it and saw its contents, he gasped. Inside was a circlet made of rose gold, designed with the knotwork of their people and etched with symbols similar to those on the box.

“When…how…where?” he stammered as he lifted the marvelous piece to get a better look at it.

Lythas lowered his gaze shyly. “I discovered that Elder Valamir’s hobby is to craft jewelry and such. He agreed to make it for me, so long as I promised not to try to hurt myself again.” He sighed in regret. “I wish he weren’t involved in our troubles.” He wisely chose not to elaborate further on that, just in case.

Tsabrak reverently placed the circlet back in its box and closed the lid, then set it on the dresser beside the towel. His golden eyes were warm as he took Lythas’ hands in his own and brought them to his lips to kiss each in turn. “I love this gift,” he whispered, “and I love you.”

He reached out to stroke his mate’s soft, damp hair, admiring the way the firelight made the raven locks gleam. He leaned close to kiss him on the cheek, and he whispered soft reassurance to him. “I am sure that Elder Valamir will be just fine. Our friends won’t harm him.”

Lythas closed his eyes and nodded. “I simply wish there were some other, less friendly Elder they could have chosen.”

"All the better for us that they chose him," insisted Tsabrak, still keeping his voice low and speaking into the other man’s ear. "The kind ones are well-loved, Lythallendar. His people will be anxious to have him returned safely to them."

Tsabrak moved his fingers from the lifebearer’s hair to his face, caressing the fine contours. His fingertips moved to Lythallendar’s rosebud lips and delicately traced the soft curve of them. Lythas opened his eyes and gazed at his mate with smoky emerald fire, betraying arousal from the sensual touch. He kissed the digits that touched him, and then he took Tsabrak’s index finger into his mouth and sucked it gently.

Tsabrak groaned as his genitals throbbed in excitement from the simple, insinuating act. “You do know how to make me breathless,” he said in a husky purr, and then he pulled his finger out of Lythallendar’s sucking mouth and replaced it with his lips.

Lythas willingly parted his lips to allow Tsabrak’s tongue to slide into his mouth and explore. Still kissing his mate, the sire slid carefully off of the bed and moved around so that he was standing in front of Lythas. His hands untied the belt holding Lythas’ satin bathrobe closed, and when that job was finished, he slowly parted the material to bear the fair-skinned, lithe body to his hungry gaze.

~xox~

Lythas gasped softly as Tsabrak’s warm hands slipped into the opening of the robe and cupped his hips, then slid down to stroke his inner thighs. With the sire’s gentle coaxing, he parted his thighs, and Tsabrak’s seeking mouth left his to work its way down his neck and chest. Hardly able to concentrate, Lythas pulled his mate’s flowing shirt open and caressed his chest for a bit, before moving his hands lower to work at the fastenings of his breeches. His concentration was even more impaired as Tsabrak’s lips pulled at his nipple, while his fingers teasingly skimmed up and down the length of his taut erection.

“Tsabrak,” he sighed huskily, bucking his hips slightly to encourage the touch. Another gasp passed his lips as his spouse’s other hand reached up and squeezed his other nipple gently.

~xox~

Tsabrak’s breath quickened as he rubbed the tip of Lythallendar’s erection and found it to be slick with drops of prefluid. “I’ve a bit of a fantasy about you, little one,” he purred as he gripped the warm, throbbing organ firmly and began to milk it. Lythas shuddered and gave a little whimper. Tsabrak sighed in relief as his mate’s eager hands finally managed to open his breeches and free his own straining cock.

“Wh-what fantasy?” gasped Lythas. He tilted his head back and rolled his eyes in pleasure as Tsabrak sucked on his nipple again.

Tsabrak licked and kissed the hard nub he had been nursing, and he answered in a husky purr. “I’d like for you to ride me, Lythallendar.” He moved to the other nipple and gave it the same attention. His hand squeezed Lythas’ cock a bit more firmly and he moved it faster.

Lythas panted as Tsabrak’s loving attentions brought him closer to orgasm. “I…I am going to peak,” he rasped shakenly.

Tsabrak continued to lavish attention on Lythallendar’s nipples and stroke his erection, smiling slightly in satisfaction. Lythas clenched his teeth and bowed his head over Tsabrak’s as the pressure exploded. With a groan of relief, Lythas licked his lips and sighed. He cupped his hand over his spurting organ and captured some of the milky fluid in his palm.

Tsabrak looked at Lythallendar questioningly, his lips parting as the smaller lashran began to coat his cock with the thick liquid. Lythas gazed at him steadily with half-lidded green eyes, his breath still coming out fast from his release. Once he finished lubricating Tsabrak’s erection with his egg-filled fluids, he patted the bed, indicating that the older lashran should get onto it.

“Are you certain about this, little one?” Tsabrak eagerly pulled the rest of his clothing off, tossing it carelessly to the floor. “It isn’t too soon to begin trying?”

Lythallendar smiled tenderly up at him, nodding. “I wish to start a family as soon as possible, Tsabrak. I miss holding a baby in my arms, and I can think of no reason to delay quickening with yours.”

That statement nearly sent Tsabrak over the edge. He had to pause and take several deep breaths as his body threatened to climax before the act could even begin. His Lythallendar wanted to have a child with him. No joy could equal the elation he felt at this moment, and his knees felt suddenly weak as he crawled onto the bed. Inspired by his earlier admission, Tsabrak set the pillows up against the headboard of the bed and then rested his back against it, sprawling his long legs out before him. “Come and sit in my lap, sweet bond mate.”

~xox~

Lythas looked uncertainly at Tsabrak, biting his lip as his shyness suddenly returned. “I have not done it this way in a long time,” he confessed. “I may disappoint you.”

Not daunted in the least, Tsabrak beaconed to him with his hand. “It isn’t possible for you to disappoint me, love. I’ll help you ease into it. Please, come to me.”

Lythas’ wide eyes impulsively went to Tsabrak’s stiffened sex and he blushed. He did as he asked, despite the surge of performance anxiety he felt. This wasn’t quite the position he’d been expecting, when the sire asked him to “ride” him. Tsabrak smiled in encouragement and asked him to turn his back to him and go to his knees in a sitting position.

“This will give you more control over your movements,” he explained breathlessly as he swept Lythallendar’s midnight hair aside so that he could worship his neck with his lips. He gripped the smaller lashran’s hips and guided him back a bit, so that his entrance was resting against the tip of his cock. “Hold still for a few moments, Lythas. We’ll take it slow, until you adjust.”

Tsabrak collected the remaining drops of Lythallendar’s ejaculate from his stomach, and he used it to lubricate him. The lifebearer moaned as he gently pushed two of his fingers into the snug passage. The sire kissed his neck and earlobe as he carefully thrust his fingers, spreading and curling them alternately to stimulate and prepare him. Lythas arched his back and began to slowly raise and lower himself on the thrusting digits, and he heard Tsabrak inhale sharply.

"You are the very picture of sensuality," breathed Tsabrak into his ear. He continued to prepare him while he reached around his gently rotating hips to grip his hardening sex.

Lythas’ eyes went wide for a moment with pleasure as Tsabrak rubbed the sensitive tip of his cock with the pad of his index finger, moving it in little circles. He shut them and moaned with appreciation, when he got over the initial shock of sensation. “You are…very good at that, Tsab.”

"The right touch can help coax a lifebearer’s body into his seasonals," informed the pirate. "But there is such a thing as too much of a good thing. Tell me if anything I do feels too intense."

"I…promise," gasped Lythallendar. He could barely concentrate to speak coherently, and he whimpered when the sire’s other hand gently cupped the tightening sack beneath his erection to massage it.

"Now, Lythas," breathed Tsabrak, "Lower yourself onto me." He removed his fingers and he positioned himself, butting against his entrance.

Lythas did as he was told, gingerly allowing his body to lower when he felt the smooth roundness of Tsabrak’s cock against his entrance. He groaned as the thick length of it slowly impaled him, and Tsabrak advised him not to take him too quickly. The sire made a husky sound of pleasure as Lythas rose slightly, before easing down again. He did it a little bit at a time, rising up and then falling down to take more and more of his mate into him. Tsabrak held still except to fondle and caress him, allowing Lythas to take it at his own pace. This position was more penetrating than the one they had used the first time, and the pressure against his prostate made the lifebearer bite his lip. Lythas finally sank all the way down with a slight hiss, taking Tsabrak’s entire length into his quivering body. He panted and held still, trying to adjust to it.

“Hold yourself there and relax for a while,” Tsabrak encouraged, kissing his neck. He gripped Lythallendar’s erection firmly in one hand and began to stimulate the flushed tip of it with the fingers of the other.

Lythas blurted a strangled gasp and started to move, but Tsabrak stopped for a moment and gripped his hips firmly. “Be still, sweet one. I promise, it’s well worth the patience.”

With a soft whimper, Lythas obeyed, trembling and gasping as Tsabrak resumed his earlier stimulation. “Oh…it feels funny…so…so intense!” Lythallendar panted as his mate carefully pulled his hand down on the throbbing shaft to stretch the skin across the top taut. He bit his lip to stop the cry that welled up in his throat as Tsabrak rubbed and squeezed the cap.

“I know it’s a bit much, Lythas,” Tsabrak said huskily. “Do you need me to stop?”

"N-no," insisted the lifebearer. "Please, keep going."

Tsabrak groaned a bit, and he rested his perspiring forehead against Lythas’ shoulder. “Forests, you feel good. I love you so much.”

Lythas’ delicate lips were parted and slack, and little gasps and cries escaped them as he endured the shocks of sensation going through him. Tsabrak’s long manhood filled him almost painfully, the thickness of it pressing hard against his hidden gland. He clenched his hands into fists on Tsabrak’s thighs as the sire began to tap the tiny hole in the tip of his erection rhythmically, sending little jolts of sensation through his groin and pelvis.

“Oh gods…oh, gods,” Lythas hissed, his body tensing.

Tsabrak eased up, sensing that it was too much for him. He began to rub the tip gently again, and Lythas found himself unable to speak. His breath was hot against Lythallendar’s neck as he manipulated his young body. The treatment continued for a while, until Lythas felt a familiar, nagging tingle building.

“Tsa…Tsabrak,” he moaned, “I think it is working. I feel…I feel as though a cycle is approaching.”

With that, he could no longer be still. He frantically raised himself up and practically slammed his body down on his companion’s sex. He froze and cried out in shocked pain, and Tsabrak stopped stroking him to grasp his hips.

“Easy, Lythallendar!”

Despite the pain of his sudden plunge, Lythallendar came. He leaned back against Tsabrak and grunted as the pearly essence ejaculated from his pink-flushed, bucking cock.

“Collect it,” Lythas said dazedly, through clenched teeth.

Tsabrak quickly cupped his hand over the spurting fount and did so, but he stared at his lifemate in concern. “Sweet one…are you alright? That had to have hurt you,” he murmured.

Lythas turned a little to smile painfully at him. “Yes…I will be fine in a moment. I just…got a bit over-excited.” He gingerly rose up, allowing Tsabrak’s erection to slide out of his body.

Tsabrak quickly applied the fresh libation to his erection, and then he cupped Lythallendar’s hips to guide him back onto it. The lifebearer tossed his head and sighed in pleasure as he was once again filled with Tsabrak’s throbbing heat.

“Take it slow, Lythallendar,” begged the pirate breathlessly. “I never want our couplings to hurt you.”

Lythas moved in a more controlled pace, this time. Resting his hands on Tsabrak’s knees for balance, he began to move his body up and down, leaning forward as he rose, then pressing back as he fell. “Yes,” panted Tsabrak softly, kissing his mate’s creamy shoulder, “oh, that’s good, Lythas. You’ll be the death of me.”

Lythas felt the pressure building up within him again, and he growled softly and began to move faster, bouncing his youthful form up and down on Tsabrak’s cock. The sire gave a strangled groan and let go of Lythallendar’s hips to grasp the bedsheets. Through a haze of pleasure, he sensed that his Bondmate was having difficulty finding a rhythm that provided relief for him. Lythas gave a soft sob of frustration and started to move too roughly again.

Tsabrak grasped his hips to still them for a moment, ignoring the disappointed cry that escaped Lythas’ lips. “Move forward, so that you are on your hands and knees,” he instructed breathlessly.

Lythas obeyed, and Tsabrak was careful to move with him, so that his shaft was still inside of him. Once he was kneeling behind the prostrate young lifebearer, he slid one long hand around the front of Lythallendar’s hips to grip his erection, and then he pushed his hips forward. Lythas moaned in delight and pushed backwards encouragingly, and Tsabrak began to pump in short, rapid thrusts-careful not to do it too hard.

Lythallendar whimpered in pleasure and lowered his head, panting heavily. “How is that, love?” questioned Tsabrak in an uneven voice.

“It…it’s wonderful,” the lifebearer moaned in reply, wriggling his hips a bit to add to the sensation.

Tsabrak’s hand slid up and down Lythallendar’s cock more rapidly, and he moaned into his ear. He shoved himself deep within Lythas and he held it there as he came. He shuddered and grunted with release as he filled him with his seed, and Lythas purred in enjoyment and pushed back against him, so that he could feel each pulse within him.

Tsabrak took a moment to regain control of himself, and then he resumed his penetrating thrusts. He reached his other hand down so that he could cup Lythas’ balls again and gently roll them. Lythas arched his back and gasped, and Tsabrak smiled as the lifebearer’s cock jerked in his hand and spurted its creamy life force. Again, he caught some of it and pulled out of his mate to re-apply it to his cock.

Several times, Tsabrak coated himself with Lythallendar’s fluids. After a while he coaxed him to lie on his back, so that he could make love to him in a position that would be more comfortable to him.

Lythas’ passion was almost frightening in its intensity, and it drove Tsabrak’s own raging excitement over the brink. The lifebearer kept begging him to thrust harder, and he nipped at Tsabrak’s chest and shoulders with his pearly teeth, stinging him. Tsabrak evidently found it quite erotic, and he lost control and began to take his mate hard and fast.

Lythas locked his thighs around Tsabrak’s waist and tossed his head back, arching his neck to the sire’s eager lips. “So big,” he gasped, “so deep within me…unh…Tsabrak!”

The pillow talk excited Tsabrak to the point of orgasm again, and he shuddered all over as he bucked hard into Lythas and filled him once more.

“Oh gods,” panted Tsabrak. He buried his face in Lythallendar’s sweat-dampened hair and moaned as the spasms continued and the evidence of his pleasure dribbled out around his girth.

Lythas caught Tsabrak’s sensitive earlobe in his teeth and nibbled it, his slender hands cupping the sire’s taut buttocks encouragingly. “Keep going,” he demanded, bucking his hips mindlessly.

Tsabrak was more than happy to oblige, even though he was still spurting within him. “My Lythallendar,” he groaned as he pumped. “You’ll have me…well and truly spent.”

They both lost all sense of time as they reveled in the bliss of their lovemaking. By the time they were both finally sated, the sun was coming up, and the birds were greeting the world with their cheerful songs.

~xox~

“Vurkanan, if something is troubling you, I hope that you’ll tell me.”

The silver haired lashran stopped examining the apple he was holding up and smiled at Lyre. The soft plea drove nails into his innards, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell his lover the truth…not yet. The shame was fresh in his mind, and he struggled to retain the carefree demeanor he had adopted to combat his pain.

“I told you already…’twas just a nightmare,” he murmured, putting his hands on either side of Lyre’s waist, “I am fine.”

Seeing his troubled expression, Vurkanan sighed and kissed him softly. “I promise, I am quite alright, Lyre,” he whispered.

The fruit merchant smiled at he pair as they embraced.

Lyre hugged Vurkanan tightly and whispered into his ear. “So long as I know you are alright, Angel. You needn’t hide anything from me.”

Vurkanan closed his eyes and rested his fingers against Lyre’s chest as he laid his cheek on his shoulder. “Of course, I am alright,” he responded softly, toying with the laces of his lover’s shirt, “all of this excitement has simply made me nervous. Are you happy that your father has bonded with my sibling?” His pale eyes were questioning as they gazed up at him.

Lyre smiled, his green eyes unfocused. “Aye, Vurkanan. I’m happy for Father. He’s needed someone in his life for quite some time, and I don’t think a better individual could have come along.”

Vurkanan smiled in pleasure, happy that his lover approved of Tsabrak. He was just about to suggest that they return to their room, for he was beginning to feel a bit randy, but he spotted two of Bakarus’ personal guards heading straight towards them. “We might have trouble, love,” the lifebearer whispered in warning upon seeing the grim looks on the guards’ faces.

Lyre followed his lover’s gaze and swore softly, his arms holding Vurkanan more tightly. The couple waited in tense silence as the guards approached them.

“Both of you are to return to Bakarus’ dwelling with us,” said the taller of the two sire guardsmen. “Something has occurred that requires the council’s immediate attention, and the Head Elder wishes for all of you to be present.”

Lyre swallowed hard and held Vurkanan’s hand as they were led back to the palace.

~xox~

“What is this all about, if I may ask?” Lyre said politely as he and Vurkanan were guided into the council chamber to stand before Bakarus and several other elders. Vurkanan cringed when he spotted Grashem standing there, and the elder stared at him with an unreadable expression in his blue eyes. Lyre noticed the odd exchange, and he glared at the elder and put his arm around Vurkanan protectively.

Bakarus looked exhausted. Dark rings circled his eyes, and his glorious, braided copper hair hung lank as if it too was weary. “A messenger came from your father’s ship, bearing a white flag of truce. To keep peace with Lythallendar, we allowed him to deliver his message.”

He held up a clear, round sphere. “This is an image projector. We assume that you must have a powerful magic user on your ship, for them to have been able to create this. I want you to fetch your father and Tsabrak and bring them here, so that you may all witness the message.”

Lyre frowned. “Have you not viewed it yourself yet, Elder?” he said warily, suspecting a trick.

Bakarus shook his head. “No, because the human who delivered it said that it involved the four of you. I thought it might be best if we all view it together. I assume that they wish to know if you are well.”

“Why haven’t you fetched my father yourselves?” Lyre inquired.

Bakarus’ lips curved into a satisfied little smirk. “We tried, but when we knocked on their door, Tsabrak responded quite rudely in the Avras dialect of human speech. He advised us to fornicate with ourselves—but in more vulgar words. It seems the two were…ahem…quite busy, at the time.”

Vurkanan snickered gleefully, and Lyre bit his lip to try and control the grin trying to surface. “Very well, sir. I shall see what I can do.”

He took Vurkanan’s hand and the two of them left the council chamber. They followed the twisting corridor to Tsabrak and Lythas’ chamber, and Lyre paused at the door. They could distinctly hear breathless moans and creaks coming from within the room.

Blushing furiously, the young sire reluctantly knocked on the door. “Father? It’s Lyre. Elder Bakarus has a message from the Swordfish that he wants us all to see.”

There was a pause in the sounds, and Lyre spoke up again. “Can you hear me, Father? I’m sorry to interrupt, but it seems rather urgent.”

“One moment, lad,” came Tsabrak’s winded voice, followed by a frustrated groan from Lythas. Vurkanan smirked at Lyre, and the sire lowered his gaze and shuffled his feet. He’d meant it when he said he was happy for his father, but hearing him make sex noises was awkward, to say the least.

There was some rustling around, followed by footsteps approaching the door. The door opened partway, and Tsabrak stood there in his robe. His silver hair was mussed, and Lyre could see several raspberry marks on the older sire’s neck and the exposed portion of his chest. He swore that some of them looked to have teeth marks, as well.

“Give us a moment to get dressed, and we’ll be right out,” the pirate said. He sounded as if he had just run a marathon.

Before Lyre could reply, Lythallendar’s voice called out to Tsabrak. Tsabrak winced slightly and turned his head to look into the room. He swallowed hard, apparently excited by what he saw. “We’re going to have to get cleaned up now, beloved. Something important is happening. We’ve gotten a message from the Swordfish.”

“I do not care…come back to bed,” Lythallendar replied hoarsely. Obviously, he was in bad shape, if he didn’t care to hear how his crew and daughter were doing.

Grinning like a cat with a bowl of cream, Vurkanan called out to the other lifebearer. “Stop being a tart and come out, Lythallendar.”

Lythas’ voice sounded irritated as he offered a rebuttal. “We shall see how well you do when your seasonals come upon you, Vurkanan.”

The three at the door chuckled softly, and Vurkanan made an offer. “I shall boil you up some suppressant tea. It should help.”

Lythallendar’s reply was laced with petulance. “I do not want tea!” Lyre could picture him crossing his arms over his chest and poking his bottom lip out in a pout.

“I’ll talk to him,” Tsabrak said, his shoulders quivering with mirth.

“Be careful, brother of mine,” murmured Vurkanan with a wink, “methinks talking is the farthest thing from Lythallendar’s mind.”

~xox~

Tsabrak chuckled and shut the door. He took one look at his mate and his amusement died, quickly being replaced by desire. He firmly reminded his cock who was boss as his golden eyes roamed the naked splendor of Lythallendar. The lifebearer was sitting on the edge of the bed with his arms supporting him as he leaned back. His creamy thighs were parted invitingly, and he gazed up at Tsabrak with languorous emerald eyes.

“Come here, Tsabrak,” Lythallendar invited in a husky purr.

Tsabrak was tempted to tear his robe off and ravish his mate’s supple young body yet again, but he forced himself to open the dresser and pick out clothing for him, instead. From the corner of his eye, he could see Lythallendar pout, and he shuddered with the force of his desire to tell the rest of the world to go to hell.

“You know I want to, sweet one, but we really must make ourselves presentable so that we can find out what this message is. Aren’t you concerned for Aurora?”

At the mention of his daughter, Lythas chewed his lip and lowered his eyes. “I am sorry…of course, I want to know how she is. It is just so difficult to think about anything besides…”

Tsabrak grinned at him. “I know, Lythallendar. The scent your giving off is making it difficult for me, too. Vurkanan is going to brew some tea for you to ease it. Now, put these on, and I shall dress as well.”

He tossed the lifebearer’s breeches and shirt to him, not trusting himself to get within touching distance of him.

~xox~

Bakarus was a bit startled by the hateful glare that Lythallendar gave him when the four returned to the council chamber. He almost smiled in understanding when he caught a whiff of the intoxicating scent of pheromones coming from the young man. So, Lythas was in his seasonals. Of course he would be angry at an interruption of receiving relief from his mate. Vurkanan handed a cup of tea to Lythallendar, and the raven-haired hybrid snatched it desperately and drank it in three gulps.

Tsabrak rubbed his lifemate’s back soothingly and looked to the elders. “I assume you have the message here, my lords?” His voice betrayed his impatience—a symptom of his spouse’s scent driving his mating urges.

Bakarus nodded. “Yes. I shall activate it now,” and he waved his hand over the top of the sphere he held. A transparent image of Nicolas Dewinter appeared before the elder, and beside the young paladin stood Valamir. Bakarus gasped, his eyes going wide.

“Greetings, Council of Elders,” Valamir said in the Nandarian dialect. “As you can see, I am being held prisoner on the Swordfish. The young man beside me is a leader among his people, and he says that we have been holding Lythallendar and the others against their will. He demands that they be released, and in exchange, he vows that I will be safely returned.”

Nicolas spoke now, his deep voice stern and unbending. “I am told that your Council understands our languages, so I shall give you my own ultimatum. If you do not cooperate with our peaceful attempt to negotiate a hostage exchange, we will keep the Elder Valamir in custody, and I will send word to my homeland that the lashran of Nandar have declared war against us. My people don’t look kindly on the kidnapping of an important figure of our society, and they will fight you. I will give you one week to reply to this proposal, and if you do not do so within that time, I will take it as refusal to cooperate and my armies will attack. The choice of whether this ends in joy or bloodshed is entirely up to you.” With that, the image vanished.

~xox~

Everyone stood as if frozen, and Bakarus’ hand clenched on the sphere until the knuckles were white.

“Barbarians,” hissed Elder Grashem with a sneer. “Who do these humans think they are, to try and force us to give up four of our people…especially two lifebearers!”

Bakarus looked at the silver-haired pirate lord. “Tsabrak, you must contact your crew and tell them that we are not holding you prisoner! This entire thing is a misunderstanding! Tell them that they are free to come and visit you, if they doubt that you are here willingly.”

Tsabrak exchanged incredulous looks with the others. The council truly believed that they were not holding them prisoner! “I cannot do that, Elder,” he finally said, staring at Bakarus as if he were mad, “it isn’t the truth. We aren’t here willingly, no matter what you believe. We’ve tried to adjust, as you’ve given us little choice in the matter, but I’m certain that I speak for all of us when I say we’re more than ready to leave Nandar.”

The other three nodded in agreement, and Bakarus frowned in consternation. “What talk is this? Surely, you would not rather live among humans than stay here, with your own people! How could you turn your backs on us, in these desperate times?”

Lythas spoke up. “It is not difficult, considering that you’ve enslaved your lifebearers. The Council is flawed and corrupted now. I learned to live with the fact that my own people sold me into slavery because they did not want me anymore. I suggest you live with the fact that we do not want you, either!”

His hands clenched into fists and he automatically reached to his hip, where his whip would be if they hadn’t confiscated it. His green eyes were narrowed with loathing, and he clearly wanted to hurt the baffled elder. Tsabrak forgot about his own frustration and he rubbed his mate’s shoulders soothingly.

Bakarus sighed heavily and bowed his head. “Our foolish rejection of you truly wounded you deeply, I see,” he murmured, almost to himself, “and now my lifebearer and unborn child are in danger.”

Tsabrak tilted his head to one side and frowned, noticing that Bakarus didn’t use any endearments when speaking of Valamir. Not, “my beloved,” or “my sweet one”…simply “my lifebearer”. He may as well have been talking about a prized horse or a rare bird, for all the love in his voice.

Vurkanan evidently noticed it too, and as was his practice, he spoke his mind. “Do you even care for him, or when you discovered he could bear more children, did you simply force him to bond with you?”

When the Head Elder did not answer, Vurkanan began to get as worked up as Lythallendar. “Is Valamir simply a trophy for you? You speak of him like a pet, rather than an individual!”

Bakarus raised his eyes and fixed the young lifebearer with a level stare. “Mine and Valamir’s past and how we became bond mates is none of your concern, youngling. If you continue to take such a disrespectful tone with me, I shall have you locked in your chambers. As for Lythallendar’s statement that we have enslaved our lifebearers, that is untrue as well. All Lashran have been called upon to do what is best for our people. We have not harmed any of them, merely steered them in the most productive and suitable direction…one that would benefit all of us greatly.”

“Oh, you have not harmed any of us, have you?” Vurkanan said with acid in his voice, “then why was I forced to couple with a sire that I held no interest in? I suppose you think that is good therapy, to put me back into line?” his lips quivered and his cheeks flushed with shame as he realized what he just said. Vurkanan put a hand to his mouth and turned to look at Lyre’s shocked face. His crystalline eyes begged for the young sire not to turn away from him in loathing.

“Wh-what did you say?” whispered Bakarus in stunned disbelief. “When have we ever ordered that you be forced? I know nothing of this, and I certainly would not condone it! We encourage our young lifebearers to submit to the choice of mate the council chooses for them, but we would never physically restrain them!”

Gresham looked distinctly uncomfortable, and the truth of Vurkanan’s nightmares slammed home as Lyre noticed it. “You filthy bastard,” Lyre snarled in Avran, and before anyone could react, he launched himself at the surprised elder.

“Lyre! Stop this!” Lythallendar cried as his son tackled Gresham and began to pummel him furiously.

Tsabrak watched the spectacle and scoffed. “If Lyre wasn’t already beating the bloody hell out of him, I would do it myself. Did you not notice the expression on his face when Vurkanan spoke the truth about what was done to him? I hope he _kills_ him!”

Indeed, by the time the shocked council members managed to pry the furious young sire off of Gresham, the elder looked as though he was half-dead. His face was barely recognizable, and blood poured steadily from his nose and mouth…and even his ears.

“Vurkanan has been plagued with nightmares each night since coming here,” shouted Lyre hoarsely as he was driven to the ground and held there by three of the guards, “and now I know why! He’s afraid of Gresham for a reason!”

Bakarus turned to look at Vurkanan with wide, confused eyes. “Do you speak the truth, youngling? Did Gresham force you to couple with Larus?”

Vurkanan looked from Lyre’s struggling form to the pulverized elder, and a horrible joy arose within him at the sight of how much damage his lover had done to him. “Yes, it is true, Elder Bakarus. Gresham and another Elder named Dymlos took me from my home one night and to Gresham’s dwelling. They bound me to the floor and invited Larus in, then instructed him to…to…” he broke off and blinked rapidly as the memories rose again.

Lythas put his arm around him, his expression anguished with sympathetic pain. “Oh, Vurkanan…we had no idea.” Vurkanan returned the embrace and began to weep.

“Let me up, you fucking peacocks,” growled Lyre, “I’m going to kill him!” his green eyes were positively glowing with fury as they stared at Gresham with murderous intent.

Lythas was at a loss. He had never seen his son so violent before, and never before was it so obvious that the blood of Coren Darshaw ran in the normally passive young man’s veins. “I think we should let him kill him,” he finally said with a nod, shocking himself.

“Nobody is killing anybody!” Bakarus snapped, and then he approached the half-conscious elder. “You know very well that we do not condone outright rape, Gresham! What were you thinking?”

Greesham was barely able to see his superior through his swollen eyelids. “It was not rape, Counselor. We made certain that Vurkanan was quite receptive to mating with Larus before the act began. You have coaxed many lifebearers into their seasonals to make their first night with their bond mates more easy for them…how is what we did any different?”

“I have helped frightened young lifebearers be prepared for their first time with their new mates. I have never restrained them or condoned doing so. You went too far, Gresham. It is obvious by the suffering on young Vurkanan’s face that he was traumatized by the act.” he turned to the guards standing nearby and gestured for them to pick Gresham up off of the floor. “Take him to his home, and guard him. Find Elder Dymlos and the sire Larus, and when you do, take them to Gresham’s home as well.”

Once the guards obeyed, Bakarus looked around at the other lashran, and he nodded to the guards that were restraining Lyre. “Release him,” he commanded.

They stopped restraining him, and they helped him to stand up. Still breathing heavily with his fury, Lyre glared at each of them in turn. “I hope you know that if I will do everything in my power to make them pay for what they’ve done to Vurkanan,” he said in a low, dangerous voice.

Bakarus sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “They will be put on trial and punished for their actions, young Lyre. If you will allow it, there might be a way for you to satisfy your need for revenge. You must be patient and wait until tomorrow, however. I’m afraid negotiations with that Nicolas person must wait until we’ve taken care of this and had the chance to discuss what to do with the council.”

Tsabrak frowned. “What is there to discuss, Elder? It’s rather simple; you allow us to leave, and Valamir comes safely home. How difficult is it to simply tell them that you agree to those terms?”

Bakarus looked at the pirate, and Lythallendar got the feeling that he was hiding something. “That decision is not only mine to make. The council will vote. Many members may not be willing to cooperate with these humans, and will wish to seek an alternative means to correct this problem.”

Seeing the bewildered look on Lythallendar’s face, Bakarus softened his voice and explained, “You and your son are a very valuable addition to our people. You must understand that we’ve seen great potential in the two of you, and many of the council elders are anxious to discover what gifts their connection with humans might bring to the Lashran. Letting you go is not so simple, I fear.”

Tsabrak sighed and shook his head. “You’re asking for trouble, Elder Bakarus. All of you are. Since you refuse to listen, I’ll take delight in watching you get blown to bits when our friends lose patience and attack.”

A couple of the elders paled, but Bakarus merely nodded patiently, as if the pirate was merely a small child holding his breath to get what he wanted from his parents.

~xox~

-To be continued


	10. Chapter 10

“Well, that’s torn it,” muttered Morgan as he finished communicating with Tsabrak.

Aurora sat across from him in the little cabin, her delicate features tense with impatience.  “What?  What’s torn it?” she said urgently.

The young Bargel groaned in frustration.  “Apparently, they have some sort of trial to do before the council makes a decision on how to answer our proposal.  Sir Tsabrak says it will probably be a few days before they contact us with their answer.”

Aurora pursed her lips in annoyance.  “What sort of trial could possibly be more important than this?  Do they even give a damn that we’re holding one of their precious elders hostage?”

“Tsabrak said a serious crime was committed, and Lashran law demands that the accused be dealt with swiftly.  It has something to do with Vurkanan-“

“Vurk?!  He’s not-“ she interrupted, alarmed.

“No, no…calm down, ‘Rora.  Vurk’s the accuser.  Tsabrak wouldn’t go into details, but he did say that a group of sires did something to Vurkanan before he left Nandar to look for us.  I don’t want to think about it, really.”

Aurora went still and clenched her fists, her blue eyes flashing at Valamir as though this was all his fault.  The elder sat beside Nicolas uncomfortably, unsure of what to say or do.  He lowered his gaze as the implications of what he had just heard sunk in.  Lately, some of the sire elders on the council had become bolder and somewhat reckless with their ideals of how lifebearers should conform to the system.  Some of them were pushing for more assertiveness over those lifebearers who were reluctant to submit to the council’s choices for their mates.  Would his people sink so low as to physically force a lifebearer to couple with a chosen sire?

Valamir prayed that wasn’t the case.  Most lifebearers sadly accepted the will of the council and went along with the Vashekna, but there were a select few, like young Vurkanan, who were stubborn.  Normally, it would fall on his and the few other lifebearers on the council to advise rebellious lifebearers that it would be for the best if they accepted their fate.  The only force involved would be strict monitoring of where the reluctant ones went and who they saw…and of course, they were constantly thrown together with the sires that the council chose for them, in the hopes that they would eventually give in.

Valamir stroked his softly rounded belly as if to draw comfort from the life growing within him.  He himself had his destiny chosen for him, recently.  When the new laws were put into effect, all lifebearers were required to be tested for fertility by the council, and Valamir and the other lifebearer elders were not exempt from this.  Though it was extremely rare, it was not entirely unheard of for a lifebearer past his childbearing years to have a sudden bout of fertility. 

At first, Valamir had been ecstatic to find out that he could have another child.  His sons had died long ago, and he’d shut away a large part of himself as a result.  Then, Bakarus had proclaimed that the only mate suitable for Valamir would be himself.  He had argued that as the Head Elder, he should be the one to produce offspring with Valamir.  There were some minor objections, because the two of them were distant cousins and the council was trying to avoid inbreeding if they could.  In the end, it was decided that Valamir and Bakarus weren’t closely enough related for it to cause a problem, and he dutifully bonded with Bakarus and went to his bed.

Nicolas noticed how deep in thought he was, and he murmured a question. “Do you have any suggestions for us, Elder?”

Surprised by the request, Valamir stared at the handsome young man and parted his lips.  He stayed like that for several moments, until it occurred to him that he was gaping at the paladin like a fool, and he flushed. “My people take their time with proceedings…I do not think that they will produce an answer for you within one week, my lord.”  He gave Nicolas a graceful, respectful nod.

The paladin propped his chin in his hand as he rested his elbow on the table.  His dark eyes were unreadable.  “They don’t have much choice, I’m afraid.  Do you think that your people would truly risk a war for the sake of meticulous proceedings?”

Valamir was confused by his words.  He’d originally come from a settlement that was deep within the forests of Nandar, and it never dealt directly with the humans.  His home used to trade with the other lashran settlements to get whatever they needed from the human trades.  “I am sorry,” he said softly, biting his lip, “but I do not know some of your words. I am not as well versed in the Human tongue as my mate.”

Morgan explained. “He wants to know if the council thinks that being thorough is more important for their health than being safe.”

Valamir nodded in understanding, and he spread his hands.  “What can I say?  The council has always done things their way, and very few lashran ever question them…not even other council members.  I hope that they will be quick, but I fear they do not take the threat seriously enough.”

Nicolas frowned, and Valamir unconsciously scooted his chair away from the young man, uncertain of what he might do.  Noticing this, the paladin laughed, making Morgan stare at him in amazement.  “I won’t hurt you, Valamir,” Nick said with a smile, “Do stop acting as if I’m going to leap on you with my sword drawn at any moment.”

Valamir looked at him with wary eyes, then forced himself to relax.  “I am sorry-“

“Don’t apologize anymore,” Nicolas interrupted gruffly, squeezing the lashran’s shoulder gently, “you’ve been saying you’re sorry since you came on board, and frankly, we are the ones who should be apologizing.  Despite the fact that you are a hostage, I would like to make your stay with us as comfortable as possible.  I don’t want you to be afraid of us, Valamir.  None of us have any intention of harming you, and provided we get the cooperation we want with your people, you shall be on your way home soon.”

Valamir sighed heavily.  How could he make them understand?  With not one, but TWO hybrids in their hands, the council would be reluctant to trade them in for the sake of one elder.  They considered Lythallendar’s return with his son a blessing, and were determined to discover if it was true that the lashran blood cancelled out the human. 

Bakarus would want him back, of course.  Valamir was a rare trophy, and the Head Elder’s pride and joy.  Though not normally prone to bragging, Bakarus practically strutted like a peacock showing off its colors when he impregnated him.  Valamir took it in stride, having gained the wisdom in his years to know that sires, no matter their age, prided themselves on their virility.  The fact that they were the envy of the council inflated Bakarus’ ego even further.

Despite all this, he knew that Bakarus would calculate the worth of his mate as secondary, compared to the worth of two hybrids…especially considering that one of them was a lifebearer.  “If Lythallendar were a typical lashran, I do not believe your terms would be as difficult to accept,” Valamir said without thinking.  His eyes strayed to Aurora, curiously. 

The young woman’s expression became slightly alarmed.  “What do you mean?  What does my father’s human blood have to do with any of this?” she was tensed, as if she already knew.

Staring into those large blue eyes, it struck Valamir.  He had never seen a human female before, but he was confident that they did not possess such large irises, and even her movements were wrong.  Wrong, for a human.  He barely managed to keep his expression under control as he realized that this female was not merely Lythallendar’s adopted daughter.  The raven-haired lifebearer had given birth to her…just as he had Lyre.  Aurora was, impossibly, a lifebearer.  She was as much a lashran as Valamir himself was…he could sense it. 

Despite his efforts to control himself, he gasped in his own tongue, “How is it possible?  We knew that lashran could produce children with humans, but never in our wildest dreams did we think that a female could be the result of such a union!”

Nicolas only understood a couple of words, as he hadn’t learned much of the musical, tongue-twisting language from Lythas.  Morgan and Aurora understood every word, however, and the Bargel put his arms around the suddenly pale young woman and hissed, “If you say a word of this to any of your people, I’ll come after you and cut your tongue out!”

Valamir held his hands out in supplication and spoke soothingly. “Peace, younglings…I am merely surprised.  I would not inform the council of this development, simply because I do not wish to see more suffering.  Even I can see that my people’s desire to rise up in the world again has become misguided.  Please, calm yourselves.  I swear to you that I will not tell a soul.”

“What’s going on?” demanded Nicolas in irritation, having only understood part of the conversation.

“He knows what Aurora is,” replied Morgan with narrowed eyes, “he says he won’t say anything to the council, but judging by the way the other elders are acting, I don’t know if I believe him.”

* * *

 

Nicolas stared at Valamir, assessing his sincerity.  The deep violet eyes were sad as they gazed back at him.  Here was one who followed his people out of love and devotion, but did not possess a cruel bone in his body.  The paladin could see that Valamir wasn’t blinded by his devotion, however.  The elder understood what would happen if he revealed the truth about Aurora to his fellows. 

He wore his sorrow about him like a shroud…a broken spirit who accepted his lot in life and the changes his people were undergoing with melancholy dignity.  “He won’t tell,” Nick finally said. 

He almost reached out to touch Valamir’s glorious hair and stroke it comfortingly, but he clenched his hands into fists and turned back to Aurora.  “He understands the danger to you.  You have my word that he won’t give your secret away.”

The young woman raised her dark eyebrows and exchanged a puzzled look with Morgan.  With a shrug, she relaxed, trusting the knight’s judgment.

Morgan looked to Valamir regretfully.  “I’m sorry that I threatened you,” the Bargel said with an apologetic smile. “I was just worried about Aurora.  I made a snap judgement and assumed you would behave like the other elders, but you clearly aren’t like them.”

Valamir chuckled softly.  “I do not know about that, youngling.  I am just as devoted to my people as the next council member.  I simply feel that only those who call Nandar their home should be called upon to do their duty.  It is not fair to expect others to adhere to our new system.”

Nicolas looked at him thoughtfully. “You would sacrifice anything, even your own happiness, to please your council?”

Valamir straightened his shoulders proudly. “What makes me happy is to know that I’ve done the right thing by my people—at least, as far as my personal choices are made.  I will do what is required of me, come what may, but I oppose forcing the way of Nandar onto others.  They will never learn of Aurora through me, and I shall do what I can to help free your friends and family.”

Nicolas’ expression became one of mixed admiration and disquiet.  “Would you ever leave, if a better future for your child was offered?” He cursed himself inwardly and compressed his lips, wondering what possessed him to say such a thing.

* * *

 

Valamir looked at him with his brows furrowed.  He parted his lips to speak, but the answer seemed to stick in his throat.  He suddenly doubted himself, and the strength of his resolve to be a model lifebearer slackened.  If his child was born a lifebearer, he would face the same carefully controlled life that Valamir now lived.  His every move would be monitored, his clothing would be chosen for him, and he would likely never know the joys of love, as the council would choose his mate for him.  Of course, if the child was born a sire, he would likely face going mate-less for many years, and would have the same difficulties in choosing someone he loved to bond with—but at least he would have personal freedom.  It was so depressing that Valamir began to feel a lump burning in his throat.  He doubted his people now, and he had never done that before. 

“Please excuse me,” he said in a voice that quivered only slightly, “I do not feel well, and would like to retire to my cabin.”  With that said, he bowed before the startled young people and swiftly made his exit.

* * *

 

“Well done, Nick…you’ve upset him!” said Aurora with a glare at the knight.

Nicolas, for once, looked completely lost.  “I merely asked him a question…oh, hells…it was none of my business.  Perhaps I should escort him, to be certain that he’s alright.”

Aurora shook her head.  “No…let him have some time alone.  Your question obviously touched a sensitive spot.  I don’t think Valamir’s happy with his life.”

Staring at the doorway that the lashran had disappeared through, Nicolas had to agree.  He forced himself to think rationally as all sorts of reckless thoughts began to flow through his mind.  Valamir belonged with his people.  He was certainly old enough to deal with his own problems.  Nicolas had to accept that.

* * *

 

Valamir closed the door behind him and leaned back against it, shutting his eyes.  “Oh, my people,” he whispered as tears blurred his vision, “when did serving you become a burden, rather than a blessing?”

The image that popped into his head when Nicolas had spoken of leaving the lashran for a better future made him blush.  How foolish of him, to imagine himself sailing away with a young human!  Nicolas was a noble and kind man, though very disciplined and formidable.  He did not say those words out of any feelings for Valamir.  He merely spoke them out of pity. 

Valamir made himself stop crying, and he went to his bed and examined the clothing that the young people had laid upon it for him.  There were two robes, neither as extravagant as his own golden attire, but soft to the touch, and in warm colors that he liked.  He flushed in pleasure at the realization that the young sorcerer must have given up two of his own robes so that he could wear clothing that was comfortable to him in his pregnancy.  What a sweet young man, Valamir thought as he lifted one of the garments and studied it.  Even if he was lovesick and prone to overprotective urges.

* * *

They looked at one another uncomfortably as they closed the door to their chambers and began to settle in for the night.  Vurkanan felt shame and self-loathing, and he feared that his lover would no longer want him, now that Lyre knew that he was spoiled.  Lyre felt helpless and unsure of himself, having never run into this situation before.  He did not want to push Vurkanan, when it was so obvious that coming back to his homelands had made the memories of his violation shove their way callously to the front.  He worried that the impossibly beautiful lifebearer before him might not ever want to be touched in passion again.

“Three days,” Vurkanan mused, to break the ice; “they want to have the trial in three days.  Do you suppose Aurora and the others will wait that long, before taking some action?”

Lyre unbuttoned his shirt, and he was pleased to note that Vurkanan’s eyes followed the motions of his fingers and stared at his bared chest admiringly.  “They did say they would give them a week.  Morgan and Nicolas will keep Aurora calm while they wait.  There’s not much we can do to speed things up.”

Vurkanan nodded, and his silvery eyes roamed up and down Lyre’s form as the sire continued to strip for bed.  He truly loved looking at Lyre.  He was all creamy bronze and tawny gold…like a lion.  His powerful, lean muscles bunched and relaxed as he removed his clothing.  Vurkanan averted his gaze as he began to tug at the skivvies that were the last piece of clothing concealing Lyre’s body.  He didn’t want his lover to know that he wanted him.  Lyre might think that he truly was a mindless wanton, if he showed interest after what had been brought out into the open only a short while ago.

* * *

 

Lyre stopped his movements and bit his lip, misunderstanding Vurkanan’s behavior.  He assumed that he was put off by the idea of seeing him in the nude.  He decided to sleep in his underwear tonight, to spare his lover the discomfort of lying next to him naked.  Maybe it was too soon for Vurkanan, and he didn’t want to push him.

* * *

 

Vurkanan went into the privy to change, selecting the longest nightshirt he owned.  He looked down at himself and sighed.  Well, the shirt was slit on both sides up to his thighs, so he would still be showing off a bit of flesh, but it was the most modest one in his possession.  He considered keeping his underwear on, but decided against it.  What he used as underwear could barely be classified as such.  How much could a triangle of cloth attached to a few strings make much of a difference?  It was barely enough to cover his genitals.  He carefully untwined the beadwork braided into his long hair, and then ran a brush through the silver mane as he stared at himself in the mirror.  The more he looked at his own astonishing features, the more he hated them.  It was because of his looks that this whole mess started.

* * *

 

Lyre stared up at the ceiling and worked things over in his mind.  How could he show Vurkanan that he loved him?  What would he accept, in this difficult time?  He wanted to be supportive, but at the same time, he didn’t want to make Vurkanan think about his ordeal by rambling on and on about it. 

A hoarse shout and the sound of something shattering interrupted Lyre’s thoughts, and fear shot through him.  He got out of bed, nearly tripping over the sheets entangling his legs, and ran to the privy.  Upon opening the door, he found Vurkanan sitting on the floor, covering his face with his hands.  The round mirror above the sink was fractured, and several silvery shards lay scattered in the basin.  Vurkanan’s silver-handled brush lay among the shards.  It was clear that he’d hurled the brush at his reflection, and Lyre’s heart ached with sorrow for his self-loathing.

Lyre knelt before Vurkanan carefully and put his hands on his quaking shoulders.  “Come here, angel,” he whispered coaxingly.

“Y-you must hate me,” Vurkanan sobbed, “and I d-don’t blame you!”

Lyre shook his head helplessly and gathered the smaller man into his arms, rocking him gently and stroking his hair.  “How can you believe that, Vurk?  Hate is the farthest emotion that I feel towards you.” He pulled back and cupped his lover’s dear, anguished face in his palms, staring into his streaming, pale eyes. “You didn’t ask for that to happen.  The only ones to blame are those that did it to you, do you understand?  I don’t hold you at fault, and nothing has changed.  I adore you.”

Vurkanan stared at him for a long time, his wide, vulnerable eyes searching his face.  “Do you?” He questioned softly.

Lyre smiled.  “Truly.  Come, let’s get you into bed.  Let me hold you.”

He slid one arm beneath the lifebearer’s knees and the other around his shoulders, and he lifted him.  Vurkanan put his arms around his neck as Lyre carried him back into the bedroom.

“Forgive me,” Vurkanan whispered as he laid him down on the bed, “I seem to be an emotional wreck…I should clean up the mess I’ve made-“

“Shhh…don’t worry about it.  I’ll clean it up tomorrow morning.  For now, I just want to hold you,” Lyre said.  He kissed the soft, protesting mouth gently, then slid into bed beside Vurkanan and pulled him tight against him.

Vurkanan buried his face against Lyre’s chest and sighed in relief.  A tentative smile found its way onto the Lifebearer’s lips as he snuggled closer and kissed Lyre’s chest.  “Thank you.”

* * *

 

“Aaarrggh!  No…it’s checkmate when you take my King…not my Queen!” Aurora snapped in irritation.

Valamir merely smiled in infinite patience and spread his hands.  “Forgive me, dear.  I seem to have confused the pieces again.  This IS only the second game we’ve played, after all.  I am afraid it will take a while for me to grasp the concept.  War is not my forte.”

She sighed and gave him a sour look.  “Oh, very well…I’ll give you another chance.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a stomach growling, and she grinned as Valamir self-consciously placed a hand over his abdomen and smiled softly.  “That kid of yours is quite demanding,” she commented wryly, “you just ate an hour ago!”

Valamir chuckled.  “Yes, I seem to have the appetite of a horse, lately.  I do hope that it is not a bother.”

She waved a hand negligently.  “Don’t be silly.  We’re keeping you here against your will, after all…the least we can do is keep you fed properly.  I don’t know much about it, but I understand that pregnancy uses up a lot of energy.  You need to keep up your strength.  Let’s see if there’s any more soup left.”

As they left the cabin and made their way to the mess hall, they passed Nicolas’ quarters.  The paladin had the door propped open to keep the air circulating, and they could see that he was seated at the small desk in the cabin.  He was quietly writing something in a book.  Valamir watched him curiously, having never seen a book before.  Overpowered by his curiosity, he stepped into the room and tapped lightly on the frame to announce his presence. “Pardon the intrusion, but I am curious as to what you are doing?”

Nicolas looked up from his writing.  “I’m keeping a journal of what happens here, in the event that I need to report the details to someone.  Do your people not keep records of their journeys and accomplishments?”

* * *

 

Aurora rolled her eyes and continued to the mess hall.  Apparently, Valamir wasn’t as hungry as his stomach claimed he was.  At least…not for food.  The young woman grinned.  She knew a crush when she saw one, even if the Elder was too dense to realize he was smitten.  Probably in denial.  Now, whether Nick shared that infatuation was yet to be seen.  The man was about as easy to read as a pile of ash.

* * *

 

Back in the cabin, Valamir was gazing at Nicolas with puzzled, wine-colored eyes.  “We do keep scrolls and tablets of our people’s history on record, but I have never seen one of…those,” he pointed at the open journal.

Nicolas smiled at the fascinated expression on the lashran’s fair features.  “This is a book.  It’s rather like a scroll, except that there are several pages tacked together between leather covers.  It makes it easier to read, and helps to keep the information inside preserved safely.  Here…have a look.”

Valamir gave the young man an uncertain glance as he passed the heavy tome to him.  The Paladin graciously offered his own chair to him, and Valamir smiled softly and whispered his thanks before seating himself.  He gingerly turned the pages back and forth, and his smile grew in delight. 

“How marvelous!” Valamir exclaimed as he lifted several pages and allowed them to fall back down with a flutter, “we really should have these in Nandar.”

Nicolas chuckled, amused by his innocent enthusiasm.  His laughter quieted when Valamir’s deep, sparkling eyes rose to his again, and he shivered.  It was not an unpleasant shiver, but rather like the kind a person gets when a warm breeze caresses the fine hairs at the nape of their neck. 

Valamir continued to stare at him, and he spoke in a whisper. “Would you teach me how to write some of your words, Nicolas?  I know it is not proper of me to ask, but I am interested in your culture.”

Surprised, Nicolas lifted his eyebrows at Valamir.  “Are you?  I was under the impression that your people want nothing to do with humans.”

Valamir lowered his gaze and toyed delicately with the pages of the book.  “The majority of the council believes that associating with humans has harmed us, as a Nation.  We’ve had difficulty keeping in touch with our kin over the ocean, due to interference from human pirates.  Only the most gifted of our magic wielders can communicate with them safely, without risking any of our people to a dangerous voyage, and several illnesses have been contracted from humans in the past…illnesses that we had never encountered before.  The council believes that it is best for us to alienate ourselves from humankind and rebuild our culture to its former glory.”

Nicolas knelt before him and stared up at him intensely.  “Do _you_ believe that?  I know that your loyalty is to your people, but do you honestly think that what the Council is doing is for the best?”  He tried to keep his tone neutral, tried to quell the passion he felt inside.

Valamir frowned and spoke softly. “I once believed they were doing the right thing.  I had nothing to go on except for what Bakarus and the other elders who had interacted with Humans told me.  I was very happy to travel to Vartros and see my cousin and old friends again, and I was caught up in the glory of this new vision.  I question the judgement of the council now, though I cannot say exactly when I first began to.  Perhaps it started when I saw the unhappiness on the faces of our young folk, when we began to choose their mates for them.  Or, perhaps I was even blind to that, until I too was required to bond with a sire not of my choosing.”

Seeing the look of angry pity on Nicolas’ face, Valamir hastened to elaborate further. “Oh, it is not as bad as you might think.  I _do_ love Bakarus.  He and I grew up together.  I was much more fortunate than some other lashran, in that I knew the mate that the Council chose for me.  I think I began to question my people’s ways fully once I met you and your friends, and found that half of what I have been told of humans is inaccurate.”

“Are you IN love with him, though?” Nicolas’ dark eyes grew fierce as his feelings rose to the surface.  He was helpless to conceal them, now.  Being near this man…this lashran…was intoxicating, to him.

* * *

 

Valamir stammered for a moment, at a loss for what to say to such a direct question.  Why was this young human confusing him so?  Worse yet, why was he staring at him that way?  He wasn’t foolish enough to think that Nicolas might fancy him. From what he understood, most human men preferred their females.  He didn’t think that the knowledge that Valamir was capable of bearing children like a woman would make Nicolas _think_ of him as a woman—pregnant belly or not.  So, what was it? 

“I…I do not see how that question is relevant,” he finally said.  The air was thick, and his breath picked up as he tried to clear his head.

“It is _very_ relevant, Valamir.  If given the chance, would you choose a life with someone you felt great passion for, or someone you are merely fond of?  Does he make you tremble?  Are you breathless around him?  Can you look at his lips without wanting to worship them with your own?” the Paladin’s breath was coming faster as well, and he was slowly rising, bringing his face closer to Valamir’s.

Valamir wasn’t even sure what he was saying anymore.  The words began to tumble out thoughtlessly as he stared into Nicolas’ eyes.  “I w-would have chosen to be with someone whom I had more than fond feelings for, yes.  H-however, no matter how un…uncomfortable I am with the c-current state of affairs, I m-must set an example for my people and be dutiful to _nah shieran fa dean Cashran_.” he was so disoriented that the spoke the last in his own tongue, but Nicolas understood.

“Dutiful to the will of the council…and what of being dutiful to one’s own heart?”  The paladin took one of Valamir’s hands in his and rubbed it between his palms.  The rise and fall of Valamir’s chest was increasing as the breathless feeling Nicolas described consumed him.

* * *

 

“I don’t know what is the matter with me,” Nicolas said, even as he continued to close the slight distance between them, “I’ve never been drawn to another person this way before, and I know it can’t be a good thing.”

“You are confused,” Valamir reasoned in a breathy voice, “lifebearers are more delicate in appearance than human men and sires.  Perhaps you think me effeminate.”

Nicolas shook his head and smiled crookedly.  “No…that isn’t it.  Even with your belly rounding with child, I can see quite plainly that you’re a male.  My brother and I grew up as part of Lythallendar’s family, so I’m accustomed to the appearance of lifebearers, also.”

“Y-you are so very young, Nicolas…the excitement of all this has confused your senses,” Valamir countered lamely, even as he unconsciously leaned towards the handsome knight.

“I’m not so young that I can’t judge for myself whether my feelings are real or not,” Nick replied, his hand gently settling on the mound of Valamir’s belly.  “Is age so important?  None of us know how long we have in this world, human or lashran.  Should we let those things keep us from what we desire?” 

His passion was getting the better of him, and he no longer cared that the recipient of it was from a different species.  Valamir was too beautiful to be resisted, and Nicolas closed his eyes and moved the rest of the distance for a kiss.

They both jumped in startlement when there was a sudden, small burst of movement beneath Nick’s open palm, where it rested on Valamir’s belly. 

“The baby,” gasped Valamir.

Alarmed, Nicolas looked from the mound he was touching to the elder.  “Are you unwell?  Should I fetch someone?”

Valamir smiled and covered his hand with one of his own.  “No…it is fine.  This is the first time he has moved.  Wait, perhaps he will kick again.”

They both went perfectly still, staring at one another with anticipation and foolish grins on their faces.  The lashran gave another little gasp of surprise when the tiny lifeform inside of him gave another feeble kick, and then Valamir laughed.

Nick felt a curious thickness in his throat as he felt the unborn child moving beneath his hand.  He looked up at Valamir’s face and felt a physical stab of pain when those deep violet eyes met his again, questioningly.  Those lips beaconed Nicolas, but he would not dishonor Valamir with his untoward desire. 

Valamir’s smile faded as it dawned on him that the moment was past now…perhaps forever.  His chest felt tight as Nicolas spoke gruffly.  “If things were different…”

He let the sentence hang as he reluctantly removed his hand from Valamir’s stomach and stood up.  The lashran watched the young man as he turned around and heaved a deep sigh.

“Yes,” Valamir agreed softly, “if things were different…”

Nicolas began to leave the room, but Valamir stood up and stopped him.  “This is your cabin, my lord.  I should be the one to leave.”  He started to walk out, then turned at the threshold and looked into those deep, mysterious eyes again.  “You are far more honorable than I am, Nicolas.  I would not have tried to stop you, had you continued.”

Nicolas couldn’t think of anything to say in reply, so he merely watched Valamir slowly turn his back and leave.  Once he was out of sight, Nicolas closed and locked his door, leaning his forehead against the cool surface of the wood.  That was the hardest test he had ever had to endure.  He had made love to a couple of women and a man, in the past.  He could not completely ignore his body’s needs, but he’d never before felt so strongly towards another individual as he did with Valamir.  How cruel fate was, that the one he felt this way for was already claimed…worse yet, claimed by one who didn’t seem to appreciate him.

* * *

 

-To be continued   


	11. Chapter 11

* * *

“Friends, we are gathered here to bring justice,” said Bakarus as he looked around at the gathered assembly.  The trial was being held in the unfinished coliseum.  The entire Council of Elders was present, and so were all of the most influential Lashran in the city.  “Elder Gresham, Elder Dymlos, and the sire Larus are to stand trial for the assault of the lifebearer, Vurkanan.”

There were murmurs of shock, but there were also frowns of disbelief on the faces of many in the gathering.  The three sires who were being accused stood on a podium before Bakarus and the council, and Vurkanan sat in front of the council with Lyre, Lythallendar and Tsabrak.  The two elders on trial stood straight and proud, with an air of dignity and self-righteousness.  Larus, however, continued to shoot nervous, guilty looks at Vurkanan as the lifebearer stared at him with open hatred.

“Elder Bakarus, if I may speak-“ began Gresham haughtily.

Bakarus interrupted him.  “No, you may not.  I have already heard your explanations.  The Council calls Vurkanan to speak, now.” he nodded elegantly to the silver haired lifebearer, who squeezed Lyre’s hand before standing up.  “Tell this assembly what transpired on the night before you left Nandar, youngling,” commanded Bakarus.

Vurkanan gathered his strength and told the assembly every detail of his ordeal, as he had been instructed.  It was the most difficult thing he had done so far in his life, to openly describe his own violation to a crowd of people.  He had to pause and take deep breaths several times, and they waited patiently for him to compose himself and continue.  By the time he was finished, he was trembling all over and his voice was shaking.  Bakarus gave him permission to sit again, and Vurkanan made his way over to Lyre on wobbly legs and nearly fell into his lover’s arms as his strength vanished.

Lythas began to stand up, his green eyes flashing with fury as they narrowed on the three men awaiting judgement.  Bakarus gave him an alarmed look, and Tsabrak gently restrained his mate and murmured to him that he must be calm, for Vurkanan’s sake.  It was clear that Tsabrak wanted to unleash hell upon the accused as well, though.  The pirate was clenching his jaw so tightly that one could imagine the bones creaking with protest.  Thankfully, Lyre was too involved in soothing Vurkanan to worry about his own rage.  He held his lover tightly and rocked him, stroking his shiny hair and babbling promises that all would be well.

With a heavy sigh, Bakarus stood and spoke again.  “My people, this is a crime only outdone by murder, and I will not allow those who have committed it to walk freely among us.  The council has made its decision.” 

He turned to Gresham, his face stony.  “Gresham, for plotting this entire thing and restraining an unwilling lifebearer so that Larus could violate him, you shall be stripped of your title as Elder.  You will be sent to the human lands, in chains and as a slave, so that you may live among those whose behavior suites you.  May the Forests help you to see your error, in time.”  Gresham opened and closed his mouth in disbelief, his eyes looking around wildly.

Bakarus ignored him and turned to Dymlos.  “Dymlos, for participating in this violation and refusing to do anything to stop it, you shall also be stripped of your title as Elder.  You will be exiled.  Where you choose to go is none of our concern, so long as you never set foot on Nandar soil again.  Our brethren over the seas have been contacted and informed of your disgrace, so I would advise you to avoid seeking them out.  If you disobey this order and are seen in our lands again after we send you off, you will suffer the same fate as Gresham.”  Dymlos bowed his head and nodded silently, though tears glistened on his cheeks.

Bakarus finally turned his stern gaze to Larus, who was visibly quaking with fear.  “Now, as for you, young sire.  The Council understands that you are in a stage in your life where it is difficult to ignore your body’s urges, and you were instructed to commit the act by two who were authority figures.  Therefore, we will not pass judgement on you.”

Lythallendar’s eyes went round with bewilderment, and Tsabrak stood up, no longer content to be still.  “What the bloody hell are you talking about!  He raped him, he-“

Bakarus cut off the pirate’s tirade with a raised hand, and he pointed at Lyre, who was glaring at the entire Council dangerously.  “As I said…the Council will not pass judgement upon Larus.  However, it was Larus who committed the actual rape, and therefore, he will be punished.  That is for Vurkanan’s Bondmate to do.” 

He turned to Vurkanan’s bewildered lover and continued; “Lyre Darshaw, son of the human Coren Darshaw and the lifebearer Lythallendar, you are the one who will decide Larus’ fate.  It was your mate who was violated, therefore it is your decision how to exact your revenge for the act.  You may choose to have Larus exiled as a slave to the human lands, or you may challenge him to single combat, here and now.  The victor will decide whether the vanquished be allowed to live or die, as according to ancient custom.  This means that if you best Larus, you may deal the finishing blow and take his life, with no repercussions from this court. Should you choose not to deal the finishing blow, he will be banished, as Dymlos will be.  I should warn you that the same rules apply for him, should he best you.  Choose carefully, young Lyre.”

Lyre sat indecisively for a long time, weighing his desire to seriously hurt the man that had forced himself on his love, and his desire to get this whole thing over with so that Vurkanan could again sleep at night without crying in fear that they would do it to him again. 

“Lyre…just let him go,” said Vurkanan softly and pleadingly, “I want to see him hurt for what he did to me, certainly, but I do not want to see you killed!”

Lythallendar nodded in agreement.  “Listen to him, son.  There is no sense in killing Larus.  Exile is punishment worse than death, to most lashran, and you will not be risking your life by choosing it!”

Lyre wanted to let it go…he truly did, but the blood of Coren Darshaw had never flowed so strongly in his veins as it did now.  He looked at his beautiful, normally sensual and carefree lover.  He thought of how much it must have cost Vurkanan, to have hidden all of this pain beneath a mask of reckless playfulness.  How much of that would have been sincere, if it weren’t for the auburn haired sire awaiting his sentence?  He looked at Larus, who licked his lips nervously.  He was tall and well muscled, but he didn’t have the look of a killer to him.  Lyre closed his eyes and struggled with himself, running his fingers through his golden hair as he tried to decide.

Finally, he came to the conclusion that no matter how furious he was with the other man for what he did, he could never kill him.  He turned to Bakarus. “He will be exiled.  However, I have a request that should satisfy both myself and Vurkanan.”

Puzzled, Bakarus lifted an eyebrow.  “Go on,” he said curiously.

“I think that Vurkanan should be allowed to hit him.  At least three times, and wherever he wishes to.”  Lyre crossed his arms over his chest and gave the elders a look that dared them to deny his proposal.

Bakarus’ lips twitched for a moment before he pinched them together and cleared his throat.  “And what of you, Vurkanan?  Is this…acceptable to you?”

Vurkanan’s expression was almost a comical picture of surprise and confusion.  “Well, I…I…suppose,” he stammered, and then, upon looking at the hated Sire again, his expression became determined and straightened his shoulders.  “Yes, Elder.  I believe that would be most therapeutic for me.  Only…is kicking allowed, or may I only strike him with my fists?”

Bakarus nodded.  “Strike him with whatever appendage you wish to use, youngling.  Bite him if you wish…if it will help you to gain some dignity back.”

Vurkanan started to descend the steps to where Larus awaited punishment, but Lythas stopped him with a hand on his arm.  “Hold this when you hit him,” the other lifebearer said as he pressed something slightly heavy into Vurkanan’s hand.  Vurkanan looked down to see that it was coins, tightly rolled in a neat stack within a pouch.  When he looked at Lythas questioningly, the other Lifebearer blushed a little and shrugged.  “It is habit.  Coren taught me to use anything and everything as a weapon, and when you grip rolled coins in your fist, it supports your hand and lends a surprising amount of weight to your punches.”

Vurkanan smirked and nodded at Lythas, who backed away and smiled encouragingly to him.  “Hit him where it hurts,” he whispered.

Vurkanan approached Larus, hesitating slightly when the sire’s desperate, wild eyes met his.  He had to firmly remind himself that Larus could not hurt him now, and he stopped mere inches away from the other lashran and looked up at him.  “You’ve got quite a large cock,” Vurkanan said, and he reached out and began to stroke Larus between the legs.  If Aurora had been there to see, she would have snickered with the knowledge of what was coming up next.

The sire was taken off guard by the move, and he parted his lips and furrowed his brow in confusion.  Vurkanan’s pale eyes glowed from within and his delicate lips curled into a snarl.  “You rammed this thing into my body.  It hurt me.”  Larus opened his mouth to speak, but nobody got the chance to hear whether he did it to apologize or not, because what emerged instead of words was a bloodcurdling shriek of agony.

Bakarus paled and flinched as he watched Vurkanan squeeze and twist Larus’ crotch savagely, and as the sire began to fall to his knees, the lifebearer raised his other fist and swung it at his nose.  There was an audible crunch, and blood spurted.  Vurkanan released Larus’ privates and watched gleefully as the sire clamped one hand over his streaming nose and the other between his legs.  It wasn’t quite enough…not yet.  With savagery he did not know he possessed, Vurkanan kicked Larus hard in the ribs, then again in the buttocks.  He was wearing his hard boots today, and he smiled with satisfaction as he heard a rib crack. 

Breathing heavily and seeing red, Vurkanan found that he was enjoying this far too much.  Too much more, and he might become something no better than those who had violated him.  With a final kick to Larus’ groin, he spat on him and turned away.  He wasn’t surprised by the incredulous looks on the faces of the council and the other lashran; including his new family.  He was sure that, once his bloodlust wore off, he would be flabbergasted at his own behavior.

* * *

 

Tsabrak mentally described the trial to Morgan while his companions looked on.  Aurora watched Valamir and Nicolas through lowered lashes, noting tension between the two of them.  Three days ago, they had been chatting it up comfortably and laughing together over little things.  Now, they avoided each other’s eyes and were over courteous.  Both of them cast furtive, longing glances at the other when he thought the other wasn’t looking.  What happened between the two of them?  There was a sadness they both shared that even she could sense.  Had Valamir refused Nicolas’ advances, or was it the other way around?  The young woman instinctively knew that somebody made a move, here…but it was bloody hard to tell which.  Both were mannerly, dignified individuals with a strong sense of duty, so which one would have forgotten themselves in a moment of passion?   

Vurkanan lost his balance as the boat rocked—the poor thing couldn’t seem to find his sea legs—and Nicolas quickly put his arm around his waist to steady him.  The hungry look in the knight’s eyes as their bodies made contact, and the way his arm tightened around the lashran’s waist made her rethink her original assumption.  Valamir stared at Nicolas and tilted his head slightly, his mouth going all soft and inviting, and it looked like Nick was going to lose his marbles and kiss him right there.  Aurora leaned forward unwittingly, her seafoam eyes watching intensely to see what would happen. 

Valamir lowered his gaze and flushed, and Nicolas cleared his throat. “You should have a seat.  There is a storm brewing to the west, and the water’s going to get a bit rough.”

Aurora checked a sigh and managed not to roll her eyes.  They were perfect for each other!  Bloody honorable do-gooders!  She seriously thought about finding a way to sneak into that lashran city, so that she could kidnap Bakarus and force him to declare his bonding to Valamir null and void.  Of course, judging by how stupidly the Council of Elders were acting over this whole prisoner exchange, the stubborn fool would refuse even if she threatened to unman him.

Morgan finished his silent conversation with Tsabrak and turned to the others.  “It seems that two of the elders tried to force Vurkanan to bed the sire they chose for him,” he explained, having only been told the basics of the situation.  “They’ve been exiled, and the sire involved was, too.”

Aurora smirked in amusement and nodded in approval, while Valamir looked pained.  Nicolas asked; “Have they made any decisions regarding our proposal yet?”

Morgan grimaced and shook his head.  “Unfortunately, no.  Bakarus seems very reluctant to give them up.  These Lashran are a stubborn bunch.” His eyes drifted to Valamir as he said this, and the Elder lowered his gaze and sighed.

“I did warn you that it would not be easy,” Valamir said, “the Council is determined to make our people great, again.  Because of their genealogy, Lythallendar and his son are considered a great asset to our cause.”

“Did Bakarus tell you of his plans concerning them?” questioned Nicolas.  When Valamir avoided his gaze uncomfortably, the paladin sighed, “please, Valamir.  This is important for all of us.  What is it about hybrids that are so important, that they would risk violence to keep them in their custody?”

Slowly, Valamir lifted his purple eyes and said, “Bakarus knows that the Lashran blood is not diluted in the slightest, when a Human and a Lashran produce offspring.  He and some of the other Council members have a theory that hybrids do inherit something from their Human parents, besides unusual characteristics and coloring.  He wants to discover if such unions could serve to amplify some of our natural abilities.”

“Such as?”

Valamir shrugged slightly.  “He did not go into great detail with me, for I have always been more of an artistic person than a scientific one.  I believe it has something to do with the inborn magical abilities that some of us are gifted with.  Perhaps he believes that certain, more desirable human traits will manifest in hybrid generations, as well.  I wish that I could tell you more, but that is all that I know.  I am betraying my people by giving you this information, as it is.”

Morgan argued, “You aren’t betraying your people by letting us know their motive, Elder.  In all honesty, I was ready to contact my guild and seek help from them.  It’s a large guild, with powerful sorcerers.  Things could have gotten very violent for all of us, but now that you’ve explained some of this to me, I’ve changed my mind.  It’s pretty clear that your people are desperate, and I’m starting to think they really don’t mean any harm.”

Aurora’s jaw dropped, and she hissed, “How the bloody hell can you say that, Morgan?  They’re holding my father and brother hostage!”

He squeezed her shoulder comfortingly.  “I’m sorry, ‘Rora, but I really think they don’t consider what they’re doing to be a bad thing.  Think about it; your sire was a pirate.  He smuggled goods and robbed ships to make his living.  Now, in the eyes of a lot of people, what Coren Darshaw did for a living was wrong, but he was just doing what was best for his family.”

Nicolas nodded in approval.  “Yes.  Though I disagree with piracy, I do understand why some people do it.  The laws of the land are strict, and only those of noble blood or rich merchants stand a chance to get anywhere in life.  Stealing is wrong, but I would not condemn a man for taking a loaf of bread to feed his family.”

Surprised that his brother was agreeing with him, Morgan raised his eyebrows.  “You wouldn’t?”

Nicolas crossed his arms over his chest.  “I know the way the world works, Morgan.  I spent my childhood in Tariff too, you know.  I know what Mother might have had to do to keep food in our mouths and a roof over our heads, if Coren hadn’t helped her to start her business.  My Order fights to uphold justice and defend the weak from those who would exploit them…that does not always mean hunting down pirates and thieves.  We protect people from tyranny, as well.”

Valamir tilted his head a bit and stared at Nicolas with even more respect than he had before.  Here was a person who believed in doing what was right and followed a code, but was not blinded by his own vision of the perfect world.  He was an open minded individual. 

“Fine,” Aurora snapped, “so you don’t want to blow them up anymore…good for you.  The question is, what are we going to do to get Father and the others free?”

Silence filled the cabin, for none of them could come up with a solution.  Their original plan seemed to be a failure.  They had no idea when they abducted Valamir that he would be considered a bearable loss by his mate.  Nick couldn’t stop his gaze from resting on the impossibly handsome lashran, and the knight again felt a mixture of pity and sadness for him. 

* * *

 

Bakarus squirmed restlessly in his large bed, fuming over his inability to get his Bondmate back.  He wanted Valamir safely home, of course, but how could he give up the four lashran that might provide such a strong generation of offspring to his people?  Visions of Valamir haunted him as he struggled to sleep.  He had always wanted his cousin, ever since he was mature enough to feel desire for another being.  Valamir had always been the most glorious, beautiful creature Bakarus had ever seen.  Even the sunsets he often watched couldn’t compete with the glorious beauty of Valamir’s coloring.  He had been crushed when he learned the news that Valamir had bonded with his combat trainer Mergalis, though he had hidden it well.  Bakarus visited the couple often, though he seethed with jealousy as their family grew.  Valamir bore two healthy children for Mergalis.

He still felt ashamed of himself for the dark joy that arose with him on the day that he heard the news of Mergalis dying in the field of battle.  Back then, the lashran had been at war with the humans, and the ancient weapons were the advantage that might have enabled them to wipe humans from the face of the planet, if some of the elders hadn’t seen the damage they were doing to their world and ecosystem.  When Valamir’s own children were killed in battle as well, the lifebearer pleaded with the council to end the war.  At first, his arguments were assumed to be the half-hysterical rantings of a grieving lifebearer.  He had never seen humans himself, after all, so his insistence that they could not possibly pose as much of a threat as the lashran believed fell on deaf ears.

It was Bakarus himself who helped Valamir convince the Council that the war must end.  Not out of a desire to spare the Humans…oh, no.  Bakarus would have been indifferent if they had been driven into extinction.  They were lesser beings, and he cared nothing for them.  He did it out of the desire to gain his cousin’s approval.  He hoped that Valamir might look at him in a different light, if he showed sympathy for his goals.  Together, they approached the Council of Elders and argued that the war was senseless, and that the humans could not threaten them anymore.  The ancient weapons ravished the environment and threatened the extinction of an intelligent species. That fact coupled with the fact that thousands of the lashran’s own young folk had already died in the war was finally enough to convince the council that the conflict must end.  Though Valamir had, from that day forward, looked at Bakarus with greater respect and affection, he did not feel the love for him that he had hoped.

That had been near two thousand years ago.  In that era, humans had no written language, and so their history of the conflict was inaccurate.  Since then, the race had advanced at an astonishing rate, and mastered magicks that the lashran did not completely understand. Bakarus began to fear that the humans would eventually discover what the lashran had put their forefathers through, so long ago.  Many of the other council members did as well, and it was decided that they had softened in the centuries that they stayed quietly in the background.  When they discovered just how powerful the humans had become, almost overnight, their alarm grew.  It was Bakarus who proposed that they rise to their former glory, before the humans became too powerful and decided to spread into their lands.

Bakarus stared up at the ceiling, his eyes fogged as he thought back on how his relationship with his mate finally became what he always wanted it to be.  Valamir had only recently settled in to his new surroundings, for the elders of his village had been among the last to receive the summons to Vartros.  Always dutiful to the needs of his people, Valamir hadn’t argued in the slightest when the council requested that he and the other lifebearers be tested for fertility.  They hadn’t truly expected any of the elder lifebearers to be capable of childbearing, so when it was discovered that Valamir was still fertile—be it temporary or not—the Council members were beside themselves.

“I’m not certain what to make of this,” Valamir admitted to Bakarus as they walked together through the city, “I had no idea that I was still capable of bearing offspring!”

“You have not felt any signs of impending seasonals lately?” Bakarus questioned as he looked at his cousin out the corner of his eye.

Valamir shook his head, his bright hair catching the sunlight with his movements.  “No, I have not.  Perhaps I truly am too old to bear another child.  You know how difficult it is for most of us to conceive, without being in cycle.”

Bakarus hesitated to say what he must.  Valamir was on the council as well, and if he refused the suggestion, that would likely be the end of it.  Relying on Valamir’s loyalty to their people, the sire braced himself and began his proposal. “You do know that we have been…helping…some lifebearers to come into their seasonals.  It is a requirement for them to allow us to try, if they have not had them within the past year.  It’s rather important that we maintain a growing population.”

Valamir blinked at him, and then he lowered his gaze when the implications set in.  “Oh…I see.  Does the council also wish for me to take a mate of their choosing?”  He was quite calm about it, and Bakarus again admired him.

“If your body proves receptive, I’m certain that will be the case.  Let us not concern ourselves with that, for now.  Would you be willing to allow us to help you, as we have helped other lifebearers having such difficulties?  As a council member, you do have the right to refuse.”

Valamir did bristle slightly as he asked, “and what of the young lifebearers, who are the proper age for childbearing?  Do they have the right to refuse, as well?  I do hope that the council is not beginning to agree with Gresham’s suggestions.”

Bakarus winced inwardly.  “It is more complex than that, Valamir.  You know that we do not force anyone to couple against their will.  All that we do is coax their bodies into becoming more receptive.  If they still refuse to take the mate that we deem most fit for them, we certainly won’t violate them.”

Valamir sighed. “True, but once you’ve brought them into their seasonals, they are likely too desperate for relief to argue your decision anymore.”  He looked away, his sculpted features troubled in the morning light.  “I shall do whatever the council deems best, Bakarus.  Though I fear this selective breeding may make many of our younglings unhappy, I do understand that it is the most logical course for the preservation of our race.”

* * *

 

Later that evening, Valamir obediently went into the palace chamber where they performed the ceremonies on all lifebearers of childbearing age.  Bakarus watched as the he opened his ceremonial robes and allowed them to fall to the floor.  Despite the mixture he had drank earlier, he felt his groin stir slightly as Valamir’s full beauty was revealed to him.  The lifebearer sank down onto the cushions and stared up at Bakarus with false calm.

Bakarus took a moment to school his voice into a level tone. “Now we shall give you a tea to drink.  It is an aphrodisiac, and should help your anxiety.”

Valamir nodded wordlessly and didn’t hesitate to drink from the cup that Dymlos gave to him.  He was clearly uncomfortable with the entire affair, as most lifebearers were, but he did everything that Bakarus instructed him to do.  Bakarus took it slowly, explaining everything before doing it, so that they didn’t take him by surprise and alarm him.  He watched Valamir’s face as he fondled him, using techniques that tended to make lifebearers more receptive.  He could not stop the expression of desire that found it’s way onto his own face as his cousin closed his eyes and parted his lips in pleasure. 

Valamir’s sex was long and boasted a thicker girth than most other lifebearer’s did, and the coloring of the flushed tip blended in nicely with the pigment of the shaft.  “Quite lovely,” Bakarus whispered without thinking as he gripped the shaft with one hand and pushed down to expose the glans fully.  Using his free hand, he pressed a fingertip against the tiny opening at the tip.  Then he began to rub in small circles, drawing a quiet gasp from Valamir.

It became apparent to Bakarus that he could no longer be satisfied with admiring Valamir from afar.  As he and Dymlos stroked and pleasured the lifebearer’s body, Bakarus became more and more aroused.  It was as if he hadn’t even drank the potion.  Valamir controlled himself admirably as the torturous stimulation continued.  He could not stop himself from shuddering and arching his back slightly, but he did not cry out or plead with them to stop when the sensations intensified.  Bakarus bit his lip and furrowed his brow as Valamir’s cock bucked in his hand and released a pulsing stream of milky fluid.  He had nearly climaxed himself, just from watching that gorgeous face and making him spill himself.

“Now, I am going to penetrate you with my fingers, little one,” Bakarus said.

Valamir opened his eyes and gazed up at him dazedly at the husky tone in his voice, and Bakarus cleared his throat and schooled his features as he proceeded.  Valamir sucked in a sharp breath when Bakarus lubricated his entrance and slid two long fingers deep inside of him.  Bakarus clenched his jaw and felt sweat breaking out on his forehead as he stared down as his cousin and moved the digits in and out of his tight warmth.  He caught Dymlos giving him a slight frown, and he managed to bring himself under control…at least outwardly.  It would not do for his subordinate to see him losing control.

Bakarus couldn’t stop the grin of pleased satisfaction that spread on his face as Valamir’s panting breaths became laced with husky moans.  He could tell by the way his body was responding that he was on the brink of going into his seasonals.  “You are perfect, Valamir,” he said softly, leaning down to kiss the lifebearer’s parted, silken lips, “So docile, and so dutiful to your people.  You will make a fine mate.”

Valamir’s deep violet eyes opened wide at that statement and regarded him with surprise, but Bakarus merely smiled.  He had already worked it out with the council that if Valamir went into his seasonals, he would be the wisest choice to sire children upon him.  Valamir started to speak, but at that moment, Bakarus wiggled his fingers firmly against the gland within him, and all that came out of the lifebearer’s mouth was a hitching gasp.  He moved his hips in time with Bakarus’ thrusting fingers, tossing his head from side to side and whimpering. 

“Yes,” Bakarus said softly, moving his other hand in firm strokes up and down Valamir’s throbbing organ.

Dymlos stopped caressing Valamir’s nipples and chest to feel the lifebearer’s forehead.  Both sires detected the scent that Valamir was beginning to give off, but it still was not a certainty that he was in season.  Bakarus bit back impatience as he waited for the other sire to determine if Valamir’s body temperature was correct.  When Dymlos finally smiled at him and nodded, Bakarus gave a sigh of relief. 

“By the forests,” panted Valamir hoarsely, “I had forgotten…what it…feels like!”

Bakarus wanted to remove his breeches and mount Valamir then and there, so much did he want him.  He firmly controlled his desires and muttered for Dymlos to make a cup of the herbal tea that soothed the discomfort of the fertility cycle.  While the other elder was doing so, Bakarus continued to massage Valamir’s genitals soothingly as he smiled down at him.  “The council chose me as your mate, little one,” he explained, “do you object to their decision?”

Though it was clear that the lifebearer wasn’t exactly thrilled with his mate already being chosen for him, Valamir nodded in concurrence. “If that is their decision, I will abide by it.”

* * *

 

Bakarus woke from his doze and frowned in frustration.  He could not stop thinking about Valamir, no matter how hard he tried.  Valamir was a dutiful mate, and Bakarus saw the envious looks he received from other sires, both young and old, every time he and Valamir attended an event together.  It still rankled him that he did not return his passion, but it hardly mattered anymore, since Valamir belonged to him, now.  He knew that his mate lay beneath him every night out of duty, and not any personal desire to make love with him.  Valamir’s body responded well to stimulation—as any lashran’s did—and so Bakarus had no difficulty in impregnating him quickly.

What mattered the most now was that Valamir would be giving him an heir.  Bakarus thought he had wasted his chance to have a son by longing for his distant cousin for all those centuries and never taking a mate of his own.  Now, his patience and persistence had paid off…if only he could find a way to get his mate back from the human rabble that had stolen him. 

Frustration ate at him as he tried to think of a way to get his prized butterfly back home, without giving up Lythallendar and his son.  He could think of nothing, however; aside from engaging in a surprise attack against the Swordfish, before that knight could contact his people for reinforcements.  Doing so would only risk Valamir’s life and further the humans’ wrath against Nandar, however.  Until the ancient weapons were found again, it was best not to take that chance.  Perhaps he should play along and do as they asked.  He could always have the council’s magic users divine where Lythallendar and Lyre lived and arrange for them to be taken back, once this died down and they were off their guard.  The more he thought of this, the better the idea seemed.  He could avoid a war with the humans, and still get what he wanted and what his people needed.  Bakarus smiled in the darkness and finally drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 

“Tsabrak, wake up…we are going home!” Lythas shook his lifemate urgently until the sire’s golden eyes opened up to regard him in sleepy confusion.

“What?” Tsabrak muttered thickly.  Surely, he hadn’t just heard what he thought that he had.

“It is true…your friend Demadas fetched Vurkanan and I from the market place and brought us to Elder Bakarus.  Lyre was already there, and Bakarus said that he has decided to agree to Nicolas’ terms!  We are going home!” Lythas’ emerald eyes were sparkling with relief and joy, and he gave a little laugh of happiness and kissed Tsabrak deeply.

Tsabrak nearly forgot the wonderful news as Lythas slid his tongue into his mouth.  He returned the kiss and cupped the back of his head, his mouth moving against his hungrily. 

“Tsabrak, we really do not have time for this,” gasped Lythas in surprise as his mate rolled him onto his back and covered his body with his.  The sire’s naked erection pushed against Lythallendar’s leg.

Tsabrak brought his arousal under control as he woke up fully.  “Did you just tell me that we’re free to go?” he asked, still believing he had dreamed it.

Lythas grinned up at him and ran his fingertips along the smooth skin of his chest.  “Yes.  I probably should have waited for you to wake up completely before kissing you,” he said with a blush.  He had learned quickly that Tsabrak’s hunger for him was exponential, and the slightest flirtation on his part usually resulted in the sire making love to him for hours.  Not that he ever complained about that, of course.  He seemed quite enthusiastic to let him slate his lust. 

“I’ll be damned…what made him change his mind?” the pirate questioned with a frown.

“I care not…so long as we are away from here and back on the Swordfish.  Let’s gather our things!”  When Lythas tried to get up, Tsabrak smiled down at him mischievously.  “Come now…let me up,” Lythallendar said with a laugh.

“You mean to tell me that you’ve woken the beast, and now you refuse to pacify it?” Tsabrak purred, rubbing himself against Lythas teasingly.

Lythallendar’s ivory features softened with arousal and he licked his lips.  Perhaps unfairly, he parted his thighs and wrapped his legs around Tsabrak’s waist.  His eyes flashed green fire up at the sire as he moved his hips, grinding his erection against Tsabrak’s.

“You’re playing with fire, my love,” Tsabrak warned in an unsteady gasp. 

He doubted they would get their things packed until they had one last romp in the bed they had shared since their bonding day.  The way they had been going at it, he was confident that Lythas had conceived a child by him.  He had only to wait for a couple of weeks to know for certain, but he couldn’t help the joy that bubbled up within him as he kissed the younger lashran hungrily and began to unbutton his shirt.  “Since we can’t take this bed with us,” he murmured as he kissed his mate’s silken lips, “let us make love in it, one last time.”

Lythas didn’t object in the slightest.

* * *

 

“I am…ready,” announced Valamir as he emerged from the lower deck. 

Nicolas turned around to face him.  Though the paladin’s expression was unreadable, his dark eyes were full of pain as they regarded him.  “Aye…so you are,” he murmured. 

Aurora squeezed Morgan’s hand warningly as the sorcerer started to say something.  This was a very personal and sacred moment between Nicolas and Valamir.  The two of them were going to be parting ways, perhaps forever.  In the short time that they had known each other, they had fallen for one another as hard and deeply as Lyre and Vurkanan had.  Aurora didn’t need magic to see that much, and a curious lump formed in her throat as she watched the two of them face one another wordlessly.

“I will tell my people that I was treated with dignity and kindness while I was in your custody,” Valamir finally said, with a respectful bow.

Nicolas nodded, his eyes unblinking as he replied, “I shall likewise let people know that not all lashran elders are stubborn and arrogant.”

Valamir smiled tremulously, then laughed softly.  Nicolas joined him for a moment, and then they sobered up and looked over the water together, where a line of lashran waited with Lythallendar and the others at the shore.  Among them was Bakarus.  Nicolas’ lip curled in distaste as he instinctively picked out Valamir’s lifemate. 

Turning back to Valamir, he softened his expression. “I will escort you, if you don’t mind.”

“I would…be honored,” Valamir replied.  His purple eyes were suspiciously moist as he allowed the knight to help him into the longboat.  Once they were both settled, two of the crew joined them, each with a musket for safety’s sake.  Nicolas signaled to the others, and their boat was carefully lowered to the water.

* * *

 

Lashran and human silently stared at one another, each memorizing the other’s features as the two crewmen rowed their vessel to the shore.  “You will be all right?” questioned Nicolas, unable to bear the silence.

Valamir’s shining, crimson hair fell forward to hide his face as he bowed his head.  “I believe so,” he whispered, “once my child is born and I have him to distract me.”

Nicolas frowned as two telltale drops of clear liquid fell from Valamir’s bowed head and onto the deck of the little boat.  He reached out and put his hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.  “There is always a choice, you know,” he murmured.

Valamir wiped his eyes with his fingers and gave a deep sigh before straightening up again.  “I know.  I choose what is best for my people, though it hurts me to do so.” No more was said as they approached the shore.

Nicolas helped Valamir out of the boat when they beached, and Bakarus hurried forward.  “Not so fast,” the knight said, drawing his formidable sword.  The two men who came with him likewise drew their muskets, and several of the lashran produced weapons as well.  “Let our people come forward,” Nicolas said, glaring at the Head Elder, “I’ll allow Valamir to come to you as Lythas and the others come to me.”

It was a tense moment that threatened violence at the slightest ill move.  “I’ll never be able to thank you enough for this, lad,” said Tsabrak sincerely as they all seated themselves in the boat.  Nicolas said nothing.  His gaze was fixated on Valamir, who stood watching next to Bakarus.  The Head Elder had his arm possessively around his mate’s waist as he watched them leave.  Bakarus’ eyes promised that this was not the end.

“I don’t like the way he looks,” commented Lyre in a low voice.

“I agree…I think he is up to something,” said Vurkanan with narrowed eyes.

Tsabrak shrugged.  “Morgan already used his divination skills to check for any Nandarian ships nearby…there aren’t any within range for an ambush.”

“Nevertheless, I think it would be prudent for us to keep a sharp eye out,” said Nicolas sternly, “that Bakarus is a clever one, and as difficult as he was being about letting you all leave, I wouldn’t put it past him to try and find a way to get you back.”

Lythas shivered and wished he had been able to get his whip back before leaving.  He felt exposed and vulnerable, suddenly…like a deer that knows the hunter’s bow is trained on it, but cannot see where the hunter is.  Tsabrak felt the small tremor that shook his mate’s body, and he embraced Lythas, whispering a promise to him. “They won’t get to us again, beloved.  I’ll never let them lay another finger on you.”

* * *

 

“You are awfully quiet,” commented Bakarus as he and Valamir prepared for bed later that night.

Valamir did not look up while he undressed, and he flushed as his lifemate’s gaze roamed his body leisurely.  “I suppose I am simply tired from all of the excitement,” he lied, “I am glad that you let them go, Bakarus.  Lythallendar and Lyre never truly belonged here, and Vurkanan and Tsabrak have always been restless spirits.  They will be happier on their own.”

Bakarus chuckled, “Oh, I let them go for now, so that I could have you safely back.  They will be back in Nandar eventually.”

Valamir froze and looked at his mate with wide eyes, not liking the ominous admission.  “What do you mean, beloved?” he questioned, trying to keep the dread he felt from showing up on his expression.

Bakarus removed his last bit of clothing and climbed gracefully onto the bed.  “Nothing, really.  I just believe that they will eventually come to realize that they belong here, with their people,” he eyed Valamir’s naked form, lingering on the softly rounded belly, “I have missed you, butterfly.  Do you know how arousing it is to see your body quickening with my offspring?” he patted the mattress beside him and smiled.  “Come to me,” he commanded.

Valamir checked a sigh and obeyed.  He lay down beside his mate and stroked Bakarus’ back as the sire kissed his neck and chest hungrily.  Valamir lifted his hips with feigned encouragement as Bakarus began to rub and press the spot between his legs to make his entrance moisten.  He closed his eyes and thought of Nicolas as Bakarus’ breath quickened and his hips settled between his thighs.  Bakarus slid deeply into him, and held it there while he looked down at his face and stroked his bright hair. 

“You feel so good,” he said unevenly, and he closed his eyes and slowly began to thrust.

Valamir stared up at the ceiling and dutifully spread his thighs wider to give Bakarus better access and deeper penetration.  He winced as the sire’s excitement grew and his thrusts quickened.  Bakarus noticed and slowed his movements—more out of concern for hurting his unborn offspring than for his mate. 

“Move your hips, Valamir,” ordered Bakarus in annoyance when the lifebearer lay still beneath him.  Valamir did as he was told, rotating his hips in time with the sire’s thrusts to increase the pleasure.  Bakarus groaned in satisfaction and buried his face against the crook of Valamir’s shoulder.

“You are usually more receptive to my lovemaking, little one,” Bakarus panted as he raised up on his elbows to stare down at Valamir.  He steadily pumped his hardness in and out as he studied his face. Finally, when the lack of passion he sensed frustrated him  to distraction, he lifted off of his mate and ordered him to get on his hands and knees. 

"Perhaps this position is too uncomfortable for you, now that you’ve gotten bigger," suggested Bakarus huskily.  "Let us try another one."

Valamir wordlessly obeyed, and Bakarus positioned himself behind him and gripped his cock firmly.  The lifebearer gave a soft cry as Bakarus thrust into him deeply and began to take him in rapid thrusts. 

“Ah, that’s better,” growled the sire in pleasure. 

Valamir knew that Bakarus wouldn’t stop until he gave him the appropriate responses, so he bit his lip and pushed back against his mate, making the appropriate moans and gasps.  They weren’t entirely feigned, but not because of Bakarus.  Valamir was unable to stop picturing Nicolas, and before he knew it, he was having a full-blown fantasy that it was the young human vigorously thrusting against him, instead of Bakarus. 

“Excellent…Valamir,” gasped Bakarus excitedly as his cries became more passionate than any he had ever given before.

If the Head Elder knew that his mate had cried out so loudly because of a fantasy of a human, he would have been furious.  Fortunately, Valamir kept enough sense about himself not to accidentally moan Nicolas’ name.  When Bakarus finally had his fill of him, he pulled out of him and lay down on his back to catch his breath.  Knowing that his mate was satisfied now, Valamir lay down on his side, facing away from Bakarus.  His deep violet eyes squeezed shut and tears leaked from them, and he placed a hand over his swelling abdomen and wished fervently that the baby growing within belonged to a certain paladin, instead of Bakarus.

* * *

 

-To be continued


	12. Chapter 12

* * *

“Talk to me, Nicolas,” pleaded Morgan. 

It was their second day on the voyage back to Tariff, and Nick hadn’t moved from the crow’s nest except to take brief intervals to relieve himself, and to get a fresh belt of whiskey.  It truly worried the Sorcerer.  His brother was behaving the way Coren Darshaw once did, years ago when Lythas had run away from home.  He was silent and moody, and drinking too much for Morgan’s taste.  Men like Nicolas and Coren lacked the social skills to allow their pain to show, or to talk about it with others. 

“What would Mom say, if she knew you were up here starving yourself like this?”

The brown, bloodshot eyes turned to him for a moment, and Nicolas replied; “She would say to let me work it out.”

Morgan winced.  Fair enough.  Their mother was Charlotte, after all.  “Fine, but what would Jahlad say?  I’ll tell you what he’d say, he’d say it’s not healthy!  Don’t you remember him telling us what a mess Coren was when he and Lythas were apart?  Do you want to end up like that?”

Nicolas took another pull from his whiskey and burped silently.  He narrowed his eyes and stared off in the direction of Nandar.  “Very well, little brother.  We’ll talk about it.  What do you want me to say?”

Morgan rolled his eyes in exasperation.  “Whatever’s on your mind, you buffoon!  Talk about it…get it off of your chest.”

Nicolas bowed his head and toyed with the lid of the flask in his hand.  “I’m devoted to my Order’s vision of a better world,” the knight began, “a world where women do not fear the night, children do not go hungry, and kings do not abuse their power over their vassals.  It may be a foolish dream, but it’s a worthy one.”

He paused contemplatively, looking at his bottle as if it held some answers. 

“Before I met Valamir, no man or woman could distract me from my devotion to our vision.  I would take my pleasures when I could, and I would resume my duties with a clearer head for it.  I never became attached to anyone.  Only my family could distract me from my work.  Now, all I can think of is that bastard Bakarus touching Valamir.  I can’t stop wondering if Valamir is alright, and what might have been, if he had only been willing to take the chance and escape this retched subservient life he lives.”

The unexpected flood of words, and the fierceness in his half-brother’s eyes took Morgan aback as he again looked at him.  “Where did I go wrong!” Nicolas shouted.  His chest heaved with his emotions, and he looked half-mad.  “How is it that this man can come into my life so briefly and turn me into a lovesick fool!  I can’t eat, I can’t sleep…the only comfort I can find is in the drink!”  His voice quivered uncharacteristically.  “He isn’t even human.”

Unprepared for the abrupt stream of admissions, Morgan hesitated for a moment to gather his thoughts.  Finally, he said, “I think, sometimes, our souls see beyond gender or race.  There’s a soulmate for everyone out there, and there’s nothing we can do to stop it when we find them. Hell, I was even impressed by his looks.  Anybody could see he’s beautiful.  But Valamir’s got a lot in common with you.  He’s loyal and devoted to his vision of a better future for his people; just as you are to your Order’s vision.  I think you saw a kindred spirit in him, and vice-versa.”

Nicolas calmed somewhat and considered his brother’s words.  “You’re right, of course.  That still does not help me with my other dilemma, however.”

Morgan furrowed his brow.  “I don’t see where you’re going with this, I’m afraid.”

Nicolas gave a short, bitter bark of laughter and took another drink.  “How do I get him out of there?  I can’t leave him in that place, Morgan.”

The sorcerer’s eyes went round as he finally realized what his brother was saying.  “Uh…Nick…I understand how you feel, but he’s chosen his life.  Think about it; he’s basically married!  You can’t just walk into a lashran city and spirit him away!”

Nicolas narrowed his eyes and firmed his jaw.  “There must be a way.  He’ll wither in that place.  I can’t leave this be, Morgan.”

Morgan sighed.  He wouldn’t tell anyone about this, he decided.  Nicolas was under the influence of alcohol, and he was upset.  Perhaps he would see things more clearly when he recovered. 

* * *

 

“We are almost home,” Lythas said with a smile as he leaned back into Tsabrak’s embrace.  “Are you certain you can handle settling down with me?”

Tsabrak chuckled and kissed his bondmate’s ear adoringly.  “Of course, beloved.  It’s what I’ve dreamed of for years, now.  The Black Cat should be there when we dock, and all of my belongings are on her.  I shall have them brought to your house immediately, and we’ll start our life together.”

“What of Vurkanan?” questioned Lythas, “do you think that he will accept our invitation to live with us?  Lyre wants to Bond with him so badly, you know.”

Tsabrak nodded.  “Aye…I know.  Vurk is truly happy that he has a family now, though I daresay your son is in for quite the handful, by choosing my brother as his mate.  Are you sure you _want_ Vurkanan to live under your roof?” he was only half-teasing.

Lythas turned in the sire’s arms and looked up at him with an exasperated expression.  “Of course I am sure!  Really, you are too hard on Vurkanan sometimes, Tsabrak.  Did you know that he’s been travelling the ethereal every night, to try and discover where your parents are?  He is more responsible then you think.”

Surprised, Tsabrak said, “No, I didn’t know that…how did you find this out?”

Lythas shrugged.  “Lyre told me.  The poor thing is beside himself with worry, and he refuses to go to bed at night until he has spent an hour searching for clues.  Lyre is worried that he might come to harm, and so am I, Tsabrak.”

Tsabrak sighed and hugged Lythas close.  “Forgive me, I had no idea.  Part of me can’t stop seeing Vurkanan as the troublemaker I was always pulling out of mischief, before I left to become a pirate.  You’re right…it is unfair of me to continue to see him that way.  I should talk to him.”

When he quickly blinked and lowered his gaze, Lythas touched his face in concern.  “What is it, dearest?” he whispered.

“I…I believe that my parents are dead.  I think that Vurkanan is wasting his time and energy by searching for them.  I feel it, deep in my bones.”

Lythas put his arms around his waist and hugged him tightly.  “Oh, Tsabrak…do not say such things.  It is a loss of hope that makes you feel that way…I know it.  I lost all hope once, and my fears were proven unfounded, thanks to you.”

Confused, Tsabrak murmured, “What do you mean?”

Lythas smiled against his chest and said, “I thought that I would never love again.  I thought that I was doomed to remain empty and grieving for the rest of my days.  You proved me wrong.”

A swelling heat in his chest replaced the sadness that Tsabrak had been feeling, and his hands trembled as they stroked Lythallendar’s silken, black hair.  “Are you saying that you love me?”

Lythas smiled up at him.  “Must I spell it out for you?  Yes, I am saying that I love you, Tsabrak.  I realized that the fluttery feeling I get in my stomach when you embrace me is love. I denied it, when it first began to happen.  I thought it was wishful thinking.  When I awoke after trying to end my life and saw you there, looking down at me, I knew it was for real.”

It was more than Tsabrak had ever hoped for from him, and he kissed Lythas passionately, not caring that they were on deck where everyone could see the display of ardor.  Many of the crewmembers looked away in embarrassment, but a few of them merely grinned foolishly.

* * *

 

“Ye gods, I’ll be glad when we land this tub,” complained Aurora.  “I love the sea, don’t get me wrong, but I want to set my feet down on land again!”

Vurkanan smiled at her and nodded in agreement.  “Yes, it’ll be wonderful to get settled in and rid ourselves of all of this angst.  So many emotions fluttering around!”

She turned to him with a puzzled expression.  “Everyone seems pretty relieved to be away from Nandar…what is this angst you’re talking about?” 

He shook his head and looked away, and she slapped him lightly on the arm.  “Hey, don’t do that to me…what’s wrong, Vurk?”

“Oh, it isn’t me…I’ve gotten my revenge for what was troubling me, and now that I know Lyre doesn’t blame me for what happened, I can relax and try to forget about it.  I mean the others.  Nicolas is pining every day, Morgan is frustrated, Tsabrak is practically bouncing off the walls with joy to the point where he’s almost in tears, and Lythas doesn’t know whether he wants to laugh or cry.  It’s disturbing.”

Aurora laughed.  “Okay…slow down a bit.  Run that by me again…one at a time.  I’m a bit slow on this sort of thing, so you’ll have to explain it to me.”

He grinned at her and said, “Very well…I keep forgetting you aren’t empathetic, like I am.  First, there’s Nicolas.  He’s the worst one.  I am sensing deep depression, followed by longing, followed by a sudden bout of resolve.  Then the cycle starts over.  I’m guessing that it has something to do with Elder Valamir, judging by the way the two of them made eyes at each other when they parted.”

Aurora grimaced.  “Yeah…sad thing, that.  Well, I guess I knew about him.  Go on.  What’s this about frustration from Morgan?”

Vurkanan waggled his eyebrows and gave her a lewd grin, and she laughed.  “Are you implying he’s sexually frustrated, my silver-haired friend?”

“You didn’t hear it from me,” he said with a toss of his hair and exaggerated indifference.

“Ah, well.  He’s just going to have to stay that way, until I’m ready.  I don’t want to make the same mistake some of those empty-headed twits I grew up around did.  The Big Belly look doesn’t suit me at this point in my life.”

“Surely, there’s some way you can do it without risking pregnancy,” Vurkanan suggested, “granted, I do not know a lot about human anatomy, but is there not some sort of potion you could take?”  He then widened his eyes and snapped his fingers.

“What?  What was that about?” questioned Aurora with interest.

“I am such a fool,” he muttered, “Aurora…you don’t have to worry about that like other women do.  You are a lifebearer!  You aren’t human!”

She looked at him as if he was mad, and he sighed, “The chances of you becoming pregnant when you aren’t in your seasonals are a bare minimum, and I can brew up a concoction for you to drink that will prevent conception.”

Aurora blushed deeply, and it suddenly occurred to Vurkanan that he had been so busy reading everyone else that he had neglected his friend.  He narrowed his silver eyes as he gently reached out and mentally touched her aura.  “You’re afraid, aren’t you?” he questioned softly.

“Don’t be silly!  I’m not afraid of anything,” she said stubbornly, though she wouldn’t meet his eyes.

He nodded.  “Oh, yes you are.  You’re afraid of the pain.  What were you told about intimacy, darling?”

She pouted petulantly, like her father, and he patiently waited until she gave in.  Finally, she heaved a sigh.  “Oh, alright!  I’m scared shitless!  Happy now?”

Vurkanan chuckled softly and patted her on her shoulder.  “Happy that you’ve decided to come clean with it, yes.  I’m not happy that you’re afraid, however.”

“It’s different for women, from what I’m told,” she explained in a hushed voice, looking around sharply for any eavesdroppers, “we have this barrier inside of us that the man has to break through when he…you know.  I was told it’s excruciating.”

Vurkanan frowned.  Perhaps he wasn’t the best one to talk to about this, after all.  He wasn’t familiar with women’s bodies.  “Perhaps you don’t have one.  You aren’t a typical woman, after all,” he suggested.

“But what if I do?  And it isn’t even just that…it’s the whole penetration thing.  My Nanny tried to explain it to me, and she said you basically just have to lay back and grab onto something for the pain.  She said it hurts every time.”

Vurkanan scoffed.  Obviously, this Nanny person was either a liar or she hadn’t experienced a considerate lover in her life.  “That isn’t true, Aurora.  That much, I can promise you.  A caring lover always prepares you for him, and I can guarantee that Morgan will be gentle.  He’s got the nature of a teddy bear, just like Lyre.  I’m sure he’ll be careful that you aren’t dry down there, and he’ll probably prepare you with his fingers-“

Aurora cut him off, her cheeks as bright as apples.  “That’s enough…this is disgusting…let’s talk about something else, hmmm?” 

Vurkanan sighed.  “All right…I won’t continue for now, but you need to be told what it’s really like, sooner or later.  I don’t want you scared out of your wits, when you do finally decide to take the next step in your relationship.”

“I appreciate that.  Now, what’s this about Tsabrak?  You said he’s bouncing off the walls or something?” Her face was still red.

Vurkanan did well to hide his grin at her near desperation to change the subject.  “Yes, well…he’s so ecstatic right now that he can barely see straight.  It could be due to a number of things, really.”

“And my father?  What’s the matter with him?” she asked, concern suddenly flooding her eyes. 

“Oh, don’t worry about Lythallendar,” Vurkanan soothed, “his emotional state is perfectly natural for a lashran in his condition.  Now that I think of it, his condition is probably why Tsabrak is so insanely happy.”

Vurkanan realized he might have made a mistake by revealing that much to Aurora, for her stormy blue eyes narrowed dangerously.  “What condition might that be?”

“Uh…er…well, you see-“

“Vurk, is my father pregnant?”

“I…th-think he might be…I can’t be positive, you see.  Lythas has recently been through a lot of emotional trauma, so his aura could simply be off a bit, but the fluctuations in his emotions are normally a definite sign of pregnancy.  You probably shouldn’t ask him…just to be safe.”

He’d done it again.  His big mouth always started trouble.  Trying to pacify the suddenly angry young woman, Vurkanan gave her a gentle reminder. “They ARE Bonded, you know.  It isn’t as though my brother simply got Lythas in a family way without pledging to him, first.”

Aurora slowly let her tension drain out of her and exhaled.  “Aye…I know that.  I suppose it’s going to take me a while to accept that there’s a new person in Father’s life, now.  Tsab’s not a bad sort, and he does dote on Father endlessly.  I’m still living in the past, I reckon.”

Vurkanan put his arm around her comfortingly and gave her a little squeeze.  “I understand.  If something had ever happened to my sire, and a new person entered my father’s life, I don’t suppose I’d be all that keen on it either.  It’s hard to let go, isn’t it?”

She nodded wordlessly and leaned her head on his shoulder.  “Do you think they know?  I mean, if Father really is…pregnant.  I would think he would tell me if he knew he was.”

Vurkanan considered this, and finally shrugged.  “I cannot say for certain.  Perhaps neither of them knows, or perhaps Lythas knows and doesn’t want to announce it, just yet.  Normally, Tsabrak can spot a pregnant lifebearer from a mile away, but after all that’s happened, I wouldn’t be surprised if his instincts are a bit off.”

Aurora sighed heavily.  “I’ll be so glad to get home.”

* * *

 

The journey back to Tariff wasn’t entirely uneventful.  Tsabrak was forced to quickly drop an illusion over the Swordfish to make it invisible, for they came upon a fleet of the King’s coastal guard as they neared their home shores.  They might have gotten by without suspicion, but the pirate wasn’t willing to take the risk, after all they had just endured.  The effort of casting the spell left him drained and ill; they had only had a few short moments for him to work his magic, and doing it so quickly had its toll.  It was late at night and he was thankfully on watch when they drifted close to the fleet, or Vurkanan and Morgan might have helped him raise the illusion. 

Lythas had his arms around the sire and was helping him down the narrow hallway to their cabin.  “I’m afraid I may never quite understand how magic works,” the young lifebearer sighed as he guided his mate’s faltering steps through the threshold. 

Tsabrak smiled at him and kissed him on the cheek.  “Don’t feel badly about it, Lythallendar.  You have your own unique gifts, and have impressed me on more than one occasion with your ability to see into people’s hearts.  That is a certain kind of magic in itself.” 

He groaned softly as he sat down on the bed, feeling drained as an empty barrel.  Lythas knelt down in front of him and removed his boots, then lifted his legs and helped him get into a comfortable position.

“There now…better?” Lythas asked as he stroked his sweat-dampened hair.

Tsabrak nodded and captured one of Lythas’ hands in his.  Gazing up at him with warm, golden eyes, he lifted Lythallendar’s hand to his lips and kissed the palm.  “Thank you, sweet one.”

Lythas felt the sire’s forehead and frowned.  “I think you’ve developed a fever from the strain.  Stay here…I shall dampen a cloth to cool your skin.”

Tsabrak chuckled as Lythas hurried to the small privy.  He couldn’t have moved if he wanted to…his body felt like lead.  He watched as Lythas opened the tiny cabinet and produced a washcloth, then held it under the basin.  It was ingenious, the way this ship drew water from the sea and filtered it out to make fresh water.  Tsabrak forgot to tell his mate that he was fascinated with Lythas’ powers of invention.  The Lifebearer had tried to explain the mechanics of the plumbing system in the Swordfish, but Tsabrak had never even known ships could have more plumbing than a simple bilge to pump out waste.  His little artist was so far ahead of his time in his thinking that it staggered Tsabrak.

Lythas paused in his work and suddenly put a hand to his forehead and swayed.  “Beloved…what is it?” Tsabrak asked in alarm, struggling to get up and go to him.

Lythas looked at him with a funny expression on his pale face, his green eyes miserable, and then he quickly turned away and knelt over the toilet.  His shoulders jerked as he retched into the bowl.

“Are you seasick?” questioned Tsabrak in bemusement.  Gritting his teeth, he forced his trembling muscles to comply with him and he stumbled out of bed.  He staggered across the room and dropped to his knees at the threshold of the privy.  Reaching out, he rubbed his spouse’s back soothingly as Lythas continued to retch.  Tsabrak quickly gathered his mate’s long hair with his other hand and held it back so that it wouldn’t become soiled.  The poor thing continued to be sick until there was nothing left in his belly to bring up, and then he dry-heaved for several minutes before the spasms finally passed.

“Ugh,” Lythas mumbled thickly as he pulled the flushing mechanism hanging from the ceiling, “that was rather unexpected.”

Tsabrak pulled him into his arms and cradled him, kissing his clammy forehead and stroking his dark curls.  “Something you ate, perhaps?”

Lythas snuggled against him and shook his head.  “No.  I think if it were, you would be ill as well.  We both had split-pea soup for dinner.”

Tsabrak frowned.  What could it…?

Then it stuck him.  Enough time had passed now that Lythas would be having symptoms if he were-

“Umm…Lythallendar, do you think you could be pregnant?” he asked breathlessly.  The possibility staggered him, though he had always known that Lythas was a fertile creature.  That he might be an expectant parent made the air leave his lungs in a rush.

Lythas’ eyes popped open wide, and he tilted his head back to look up at him with his lips parted.  “Oh…OH!  Yes…Tsabrak…I think I am!”

“Forests bless me, why did I not see it sooner?” Tsabrak gasped.  He traced the delicate structure of Lythallendar’s beautiful face and felt like his heart was going to burst.  Lythas’ shapely lips pulled up into a gentle smile, and Tsabrak hugged him tightly.  “I love you so much,” he said huskily against his hair.

* * *

 

“One more day of travel, and we’ll be home,” mused Lyre as he climbed into bed and pulled the covers up.  He never thought he would miss Tariff as much as he did now.

Vurkanan smiled at him and continued to disrobe.  Lyre tried not to stare, but it was difficult.  This was the first time since the lifebearer’s admission of what the elders had done to him that he had taken his clothes off in front of him.  The silver eyes regarded him steadily as Vurkanan dropped his tunic to the floor and then slowly began to unlace the tight breeches he wore. 

“Are we feeling frisky tonight, Lyre?” Vurkanan’s voice was a seductive purr as he teasingly pulled the garment open, giving his lover a glimpse of the soft down of silver that graced his genital area.

Lyre flushed as he followed Vurkanan’s eyes to the prominent tent the bedsheets had formed below his own waist.  “Always, for you,” he answered honestly, “but, are you ready?  I don’t want you to feel pressured.” 

He bit back a groan of need as Vurkanan gracefully pushed his breeches down and stepped out of them, and then sauntered to the bed, completely nude.  He was unquestionably aroused, his cock erect and shiny with a bead of precum at the tip.

“Oh yes…I am ready for this,” Vurkanan answered as he crawled on top of Lyre and straddled him.  His lips traced the sire’s jaw, his tongue darting out to taste the skin, “I’ve been ready for days, but did not want to seem wanton to you.”

Lyre’s chest rose and fell rapidly with his quickening breathe, and he cupped his lover’s buttocks and pulled him more firmly against his arousal.  Vurkanan hummed with pleasure and kissed him deeply, his hands splaying across Lyre’s chest.  After a few moments of their tongues making love to one another, Lyre broke the kiss and said breathlessly, “Before we continue, I must know something.  I want you to tell me honestly, angel.”

Vurkanan paused and pulled back to look at Lyre questioningly.  “What is it, Lyre?”

“Does it…hurt you when I’m inside of you?”

Vurkanan looked surprised by the question.  “Whyever are you asking me this?”

Lyre lowered his emerald gaze and shrugged.  “I don’t know…Aurora once confessed to me that she was afraid of intercourse.  She said the women she had spoken to claimed it’s quite painful, and the night that you and I made love, you cried out when I first entered you.” He looked back up at him, his eyes earnest and sincere.  “Tell me…does it hurt?  It isn’t really fair to you if I’m the only one getting pleasure out of it.”

* * *

 

Vurkanan almost laughed, but the sincerity on his lover’s face sobered him.  Damn Aurora and her paranoia.  He felt that he could cheerfully strangle the girl right about now.  “Listen to me, my sweet lion.  Aurora has gotten her information from women who obviously never had lovers who were considerate.  Intercourse can be painful for the one being penetrated if they aren’t prepared properly.  I’ll admit, too much too quickly can be painful at first, but the discomfort fades quickly.  Trust me, I thoroughly enjoy having you inside of me.”

Lyre didn’t look convinced.  “But, it does hurt you?”

Vurkanan sighed and traced the sire’s collarbone with his fingertips.  “Only for a moment.  Would you like for me to show you how it feels?”

At Lyre’s confused look, Vurkanan grinned and kissed him sensuously.  “How does a little role-reversal sound to you?” he purred, “we can better learn how to please one another if we try it.  Though as a lifebearer, I normally prefer to be the one penetrated, I must admit the thought of being inside of you does appeal to me.”  He rubbed his straining erection against Lyre’s, with only the thin sheet separating the two organs from making contact.

“I…I’m not sure,” stammered Lyre as Vurkanan’s fingers trailed down his abdomen and skimmed teasingly along his waistline.

“Just once?  I promise, I’ll be gentle,” Vurkanan said huskily, slipping his hand below the sheets.  He nibbled his earlobe as he gripped his erection and began to fondle it.

“Oh gods,” Lyre gasped, his tone revealing all the pent up sexual need he’d been keeping to himself. He closed his eyes and moved his hips with Vurkanan’s stroking, and he turned his head and claimed the lifebearer’s mouth with his.

* * *

 

Vurkanan thrust his tongue suggestively in and out of Lyre’s mouth, and the sire found himself surprisingly excited by it.  He actually wanted to feel Vurkanan inside of him, something he never thought that he would enjoy, himself. 

“Yes,” he gasped against his lover’s lips, “let’s try it.”

“You mean it?” Vurkanan asked, pulling back to look him in the eye.

“Yes…I want to know what it feels like.”

Vurkanan smiled, his pale eyes flashing with desire.  He continued to stroke Lyre’s shaft as he dragged his lips down the Sire’s throat and chest, moving down his body.  “Spread your thighs,” he commanded softly as he pulled the sheets down.  Lyre complied, and the lifebearer continued to kiss and lick his way down his torso.  Lyre stroked his lover’s thick mane of silver hair with shaking hands as Vurkanan’s mouth traveled to his inner thighs.

Vurkanan smiled in amused arousal as he blew softly on the swollen cap at the tip of Lyre’s arousal, and the organ jerked in response.  Lyre’s thighs were tense with anticipation as Vurkanan skimmed them teasingly with his fingertips.  He darted his pink tongue out to lick the drop of moisture that beaded on the tip of the erection, and Lyre gasped his name. 

The sorcerer continued his teasing, keeping Lyre off-guard.  He occasionally gave his throbbing organ a quick lick, or gave his heavy testicles a gentle squeeze, but he never actually took him into his mouth or fondled him for more than a few seconds.  Lyre’s breath was hissing in and out through clenched teeth, and he moved his pelvis forward in the hopes that his lover would give him the release he needed. 

“This is unfair, Vurk,” he growled.

A soft chuckle was his response, and he groaned as Vurkanan’s mouth fastened onto the skin of his inner thigh, right beside his straining sex.  Vurkanan sucked on the spot until it was reddened, and then he murmured a demand. “I’m waiting to hear you say it.”

“Say what?” Lyre asked in frustration.  He jerked as the other man gave his scrotum another soft, brief squeeze.

“Say you belong to me,” Vurkanan said with a mischievous grin at him. 

A game, then.  Lyre was about to say something that might have been impolite, so great was his need, but Vurkanan’s lips closed around the very tip of his cock and gave it a brief, hard pull.  Lyre’s back arched, and before he knew it, he was shouting, “I belong to you!  Stop torturing me!”

Vurkanan laughed in delight and finally took pity on his young lover.  He sucked as much of Lyre’s cock into his mouth as he could, and as he took the length of it in and out of his mouth, he gently kneaded his tightened balls.  Lyre’s eyes rolled back in his head from the pleasure, and he fell back against the pillows and gripped the sheets. 

“Oh gods…how do you do that so well,” he panted.  Vurkanan didn’t answer him, of course.  The lifebearer’s silver head bobbed up and down as he suckled the hard organ, and he made soft, pleased sounds every time Lyre moaned. 

It didn’t take very long for Lyre to reach his climax.  He’d already been so aroused by the time Vurkanan’s warm mouth began to suck on him, he nearly orgasmed right away.  Vurkanan sensed how close he was, and he released his cock from his mouth and gripped it in his hand.  He slid back up the length of Lyre’s body to kiss him passionately as he rapidly moved his squeezing hand up and down his shaft.  Lyre groaned against his mouth as his peak came, and Vurkanan held his palm over the spurting organ to capture some of the fluid.

“I’m going to prepare you now, Lyre,” Vurkanan murmured as he slipped his hand past the sire’s balls.  Lyre gave a small, nervous jerk as Vurkanan’s fingers began to smooth the wet seminal fluids over his sphincter. 

“Easy there, gorgeous,” Vurkanan whispered, kissing Lyre softly as he lubricated him. 

Lyre closed his eyes and examined the sensation.  It wasn’t unpleasant…rather ticklish, actually.  Vurkanan slowly pushed a finger in, and he grimaced in discomfort.  Vurkanan watched his face carefully as he began to gently thrust his finger in and out of him.  “I know it’s uncomfortable right now, love,” he soothed, “but you’ve never done this before, and you are very tight.  I promise it will get better.”

Lyre nodded and took a deep breath, trying to relax.  After a few moments, the discomfort faded and his features softened.  Vurkanan smiled and continued until he was certain the muscle had relaxed sufficiently, and then he added another finger to the penetration.  Lyre made a soft grunt and winced, but otherwise showed no sign of pain.  Vurkanan kissed and nibbled his mouth as he slowly prepared him.  He reached his free hand between Lyre’s legs and took his cock in a soft grip, then kissed his way from his mouth down to his neck and chest.  Lyre shivered in pleasure as Vurkanan’s lips sucked on one of his nipples, while his gripping hand began to stroke him. 

“There now…that’s better,” Vurkanan purred in satisfaction when Lyre began to relax around his fingers.  He coaxed him to lay back and spread his thighs, smiling as Lyre’s cock again swelled and stiffened in his stroking hand. 

Lyre couldn’t help the tremor of fear that went through his body as Vurkanan knelt between his thighs.  He unconsciously gripped the bedsheets and clenched his jaw, anticipating the painful invasion.  A soft laugh made him crack his eyes open again.  “You find this funny?” he said in annoyance.

Vurkanan pulled his fingers out of him, and he pressed his erection against the prepared orifice.  “I am sorry, Lyre…it’s just that you look like a man waiting for a lash to fall onto his back.  Please, try to relax.  If it was that bad, I certainly wouldn’t have allowed you to do it to me.”

He covered Lyre’s body with his own and kissed him tenderly.  Lyre relaxed a bit and returned the kiss, aroused in spite of himself by the feel of Vurkanan’s silken erection rubbing against his most intimate spot.  Vurkanan pushed the tip of it in, and Lyre’s green eyes shot open wide.  “Oh gods,” he groaned, his arms going around his lover as the lifebearer slowly penetrated him.

Vurkanan stopped when it was halfway in and planted kisses all over Lyre’s perspiring face.  “Easy, sweet lion…let yourself adjust to it,” he advised.  He rose up slightly, supporting himself on his elbow, and he caressed his face with his fingertips.  He stroked one of Lyre’s sensitive, pointed ears, knowing it was his weak spot.  Lyre relaxed again, and Vurkanan resumed the penetration.  The lifebearer echoed his lover’s groan as his throbbing length filled Lyre completely. 

“By the Forests, you feel wonderful, Lyre,” he sighed, staring down at him with a dazed expression.

Lyre was breathing in short, harsh gasps as he tried to adjust to the unfamiliar stretching sensation.  Vurkanan whispered nonsense to him and held himself still within him until the pain faded.  “Tell me when it is better, Lyre.”

After a few moments, the burning sensation faded, leaving only a heavy fullness and a slight ache within him.  Lyre kissed Vurkanan and cupped his buttocks encouragingly.  “I think it’s better,” he said a little uncertainly.

Vurkanan withdrew a bit, then gently thrust back in, and Lyre gave a startled gasp.  “What is it?!” Vurkanan asked in alarm, going instantly still and staring down at him with wide eyes.

“I…I’m not sure…when you pushed it back in, it pressed against something…felt almost like a shock, but a good one.”

Vurkanan laughed softly.  “Oh, you gave me a scare, lover.  I thought I had damaged something!  Don’t worry…that little ‘shock’ you felt is normal.  I’m pleased that I am able to properly stroke it.”  He nibbled Lyre’s lips and repeated his earlier actions.  Sure enough, the jolt of pleasure hit Lyre again, and he held Vurkanan tightly and gasped.  “Like that, do you?” Vurkanan said huskily.

Lyre wasn’t able to answer, for upon seeing that it was no longer causing him pain, Vurkanan began a slow, steady thrusting rhythm.  “Vurk,” gasped Lyre, lifting his hips to meet the lifebearer’s thrusts.  He stared up at Vurkanan’s face as they made love.  It seemed that Vurkanan didn’t quite know what to make of the new sensations either, for his lovely features went through a series of awe-struck expressions. 

* * *

 

Vurkanan bit his lip and moaned softly, slowly losing control of himself.  Each thrust felt better than the last, and the feel of Lyre’s gripping heat squeezing his penis was such a new and different experience that he wasn’t sure how long he could keep doing this.  His body glistened with sweat as he groaned and quickened the pace of his thrusts.  He panted in Lyre’s ear and closed his eyes as his instincts took over.  Lyre couldn’t stop moaning in a combination of pain and pleasure as Vurkanan’s movements became rougher and more erratic. 

“I’m sorry,” gasped Vurkanan, “but I can’t hold off!”  Then his body went taut and he came inside of Lyre.

* * *

 

Lyre held his lover tightly as he trembled with the force of his release.  He stroked Vurkanan’s silver hair and sighed softly.  The feel of his shaft pulsing within him as it ejaculated was actually quite pleasant.  For a long time, Vurkanan lay atop Lyre and sucked in deep breaths while his body recovered.  His hair was damp with perspiration and he trembled like a newborn. 

“How did it feel?” he finally asked breathlessly, rising up on one elbow so that he could look at his lover.

Lyre struggled to think of words to describe it.  “It was wonderful, but strange.  It sort of ached and felt good at the same time.  How did you like it?”

Vurkanan laughed and kissed him soundly.  “Do you really need to ask that, after how hard I orgasmed?”  He carefully pulled his sated member out of Lyre’s body and rolled off of him so that he was facing him on his side.  “But, you didn’t peak.”  He spared a frowning glance at Lyre’s stiffened cock.

Lyre shifted a bit, wincing at the sting in his nether regions.  “I nearly did, but you stopped,” he said with a grin.

Vurkanan blushed and grimaced.  “Forgive me…I did not have the control I thought I would.  Now I know why sires are usually the ‘givers’ in lashran couplings.”

Lyre chuckled and caressed Vurkanan’s cheek.  “Don’t trouble yourself over it.  The first time I ever made love, I spilled myself on the second thrust.  I think if the experience wasn’t so new and strange to me, I might have orgasmed.”

Vurkanan grinned mischievously and curled his fingers around Lyre’s organ.  “Well, you could always have a turn on me, beloved.”

Lyre didn’t know what excited him more; Vurkanan’s invitation or the fact that he had called him ‘beloved’.

* * *

“Ah, there she is,” said Tsabrak with a smile as they sailed into the port of Tariff.  The Black Cat bobbed serenely at the boarding docks beside them.

Noting the tone of his voice, Lythas looked up at him and said, “Are you certain you are alright with giving her over to Tom?  I know how much you love your ship.”

Tsabrak hugged him close and nuzzled his soft hair.  “Aye, I’m certain of it, dear one.  We’re going to have a little one soon, and a family is much more important to me than reckless endangerment on the sea.  I shall have all the excitement I can handle, once the baby is born and getting into trouble.”

Lythas laughed and pinched him lightly on the chin.  “How do you know he is going to get into trouble?  Perhaps he will take after me.”

Tsabrak grinned foolishly.  “I certainly hope that he does, little one.  However, I have the feeling that any child of my siring will be a hellion.”

“You are so excited about this…it’s endearing,” Lythas whispered, kissing him soundly.

Aurora was passing by at that moment, pulling a flat, four-wheeled wagon that her luggage chest was sitting on.  “Would you two please at least wait until we’re home, before you start doing that?” she snapped in annoyance, glaring at Tsabrak.  Without waiting for an answer, she passed them by and carefully guided her luggage down the ramp.  Morgan followed her down, and the Bargel gave Lythas and Tsabrak an apologetic grin for her behavior.

Lythas sighed and backed away slightly from his Bondmate.  Aurora was right, of course.  It wouldn’t do for the two of them to be lip-locked in public…at least, not here.  Humans weren’t very forgiving of same gender relationships.  That he and Tsabrak were lashran would make little difference, as very few people in Tariff knew the truth about their race.  Most Humans had no idea that there were no females among the Lashran, and Lythas wasn’t sure how they might react if they knew the truth.

“Are we going to tell Aurora our news?” Tsabrak said a bit reluctantly.  He was clearly worried about how the fiery young woman might react to the news about the baby.

“Tonight, after we are settled in and everyone is exhausted from hauling luggage and supplies back to the house,” Lythas said tactfully.

Nicolas walked by with Lyre and Vurkanan, and both Lythas and Tsabrak frowned in concern at the young man.  He looked angry, restless and defeated…all at the same time.  His collar-length sable hair, which was usually immaculately groomed, tumbled in unkempt disarray.  His shirt was halfway unbuttoned-another oddity-and it bore whiskey stains on it.   He also smelled of spirits.  The scabbard housing his sword wasn’t fastened properly and tilted at an odd angle across his back.

“The lad’s in bad shape,” commented Tsabrak softly.  The young knight stumbled when he reached the boarding plank, and Lyre quickly reached out and grabbed his arm to steady him.  The sire helped Nicolas descend the ramp, and Vurkanan moved to the knight’s other side and supported his other arm.

“Yes…he is,” agreed Lythas, “Perhaps he should stay with us for a few days, before going home to visit Charlotte.  I know she hasn’t seen him in years, but I would hate for her to witness him in this state.  He needs time to recover from his heartache, Tsab.”

Tsabrak nodded and gave Lythas’ hand a brief squeeze.  “I believe you’re right.  I can certainly relate to the heartache he’s feeling, to put him in such a state.”

Lythallendar looked at him with soft eyes, and he took his hand. 

* * *

 

“I’ve put Nicolas to bed,” said Morgan with a sigh as he rejoined the others in the lounge room.  It was difficult for him to see his older sibling in such a state.  Nick had always been a man in control of himself, always confident and never showing a moments weakness.  The knight had been so drunk when Morgan had guided him to the guestroom and helped him into bed that he called Morgan “Mom”. 

Aurora poured a glass of brandy and handed it to the young sorcerer, and he was touched by the sympathy rimming her blue eyes.  Seating himself wearily on the couch, he sighed.  “I apologize for the state my brother is in.  This isn’t like him at all.  If it isn’t too much trouble, I’d like for the both of us to stay here for a couple of days.  I’m hoping he can get his feelings sorted out enough to pull himself together, before I take him home to see Mom.”

Lythas nodded.  “Of course, you can stay Morgan.  This must be as hard on you as it is on him.”

Morgan ran his fingers through his hair and gave a brief, humorless laugh.  “He’s like a stranger right now.  I’ve never seen him come across a situation that he couldn’t deal with, before.”

“Give him time, lad,” advised Tsabrak, “your brother has fallen in love for the first time in his life, and the person of his fancy is already spoken for.  That sort of predicament could drive anyone to drink, be they lashran or human.” 

He squeezed Lythas unconsciously as he spoke, and the lifebearer looked up at him with parted lips, finally seeing what his mate must have been through when he took Vashekna with Coren.  What was worse, he’d selfishly asked Tsabrak to preside over the vows!

“Forgive me, Tsabrak,” Lythallendar whispered with an unhappy frown.

Puzzled, the sire looked down at him. “For what?”

Lythas swallowed and traced the contours of Tsabrak’s face.  “For being so blind to your pain, back then.  Now I realize how much it must have cost you, to support Coren and I as much as you did.”

Tsabrak smiled and shook his head.  “None of that is important anymore.  What I wanted the most back then was for you to be happy, and that has not changed one bit.  You loved him, and you were happy with him.  Therefore, I could bear it.”

* * *

 

Aurora swallowed the sudden lump that rose in her throat and blinked her eyes rapidly.  She had never known that Tsabrak had made such a sacrifice, nor did she know that the pirate had loved her father for this long.  She always knew he was infatuated with Lythas, but had remained blissfully ignorant of just how deep his feelings ran for him.  She didn’t know whether she was impressed with his obvious strength of character, or irritated that his soft admission made her feel unaccustomed warmth and respect for him.

Lyre had no such confusion in his heart.  He had always known that Tsabrak was a good man, and he never felt the anger towards him that his sister had.  “I don’t know that I could bear it if Vurkanan pledged himself to another person,” he said with a fond look at his lover, “I only hope that Nicolas can draw strength from your example, Sir.  There aren’t many who could take such pain as graciously as you did.”

Embarrassed, Tsabrak cleared his throat and took a deep breath.  “Well, you’d be surprised by what you can do for someone you love.  Now, enough of this talk…Lythallendar and I have something that we’d like to share with you all.  Beloved?” he turned to Lythas respectfully, thinking it was best that he announce the news.

Lythas blushed and gave Aurora a wary look, but spoke quite clearly.  “Tsabrak and I are expecting our first born.  I became certain of it yesterday.  I hope that you will all be happy for us.”

Vurkanan merely nodded and grinned, as if to say, and Lyre gave a little hoot of joy and crossed the room to shake Tsabrak’s hand and hug his father.

Morgan smiled quietly and glanced sidelong at Aurora, then frowned.  She didn’t look thrilled with the news.  She didn’t exactly look angry either.

Lythallendar’s smile faded as his green eyes met his daughter’s fierce, blue gaze.  “Aurora, dearest?  Please say something.  Do not give me the silent treatment.”

She glared at Tsabrak accusingly for a moment, and then when she looked back at her father and saw the distress on his face, she melted.  “Oh, Father, don’t look like that.  I’m sorry.  I _am_ happy for you…truly.  I’m just being selfish.” 

She stood up and crossed the room to hug Lythas tightly.  He buried his face in her hair, and she was horrified to feel his body trembling against hers.  By the gods…how cruel _was_ she?  She knew how much her approval meant to him, and she had done nothing but try to tear her father and Tsabrak apart from the beginning.  In his condition, his anxiety clearly wasn’t mixing well with his hormones.

“Shhh, it’s alright, Father,” she whispered, rubbing his back, “I’m not mad anymore.  I know he’s good for you, and I promise I’ll try to stop giving him such a hard time.  I’m actually looking forward to having a new baby brother.”

 

Lythas’ trembling slowly faded, and he pulled back to cup her face and stare into her eyes.  “Truly?  You aren’t furious with us?”

Feeling wretched, she bit her lip and shook her head.  “I’m sorry for being such a bitch,” she said huskily.

* * *

 

Tsabrak snorted and pinched his lips tightly together as an outburst of laughter threatened.  The lass didn’t mince words…she said exactly what was on her mind, no matter who was listening.  Who would have thought the tiny being he had helped deliver over twenty years ago would grow into such a hellion?  She stepped away from Lythas and looked up at Tsabrak.  He could see all the different emotions flickering over her fair features as she struggled to speak. 

"Congratulations, Tsabrak,” she finally said in a grudging tone.  She reached out and slapped him on the arm.  “You’d better take damn good care of Daddy.  Make sure he eats right.  We had a horrible time getting him to take enough dairy when we were waiting on Lyre to pop out.  And you rub his feet at night, because they’re going to swell up during the day, soon.  He usually craves a lot of greens when he’s preggers, but he overdoes it and they give him the runs, so watch out for that too-“

“Aurora!” gasped Lythas in mortification, his entire face going bright red.

Tsabrak’s shoulders shook as he tried to stifle his laughter behind his hand.  He cleared his throat and nodded at the young woman. “I promise, I shall watch his diet like a hawk, and I’ll see to it that he never has to suffer a moment’s discomfort, if it’s in my power to do so.  I also swear to you that any greens in this house will be carefully guarded, so that our sweet artist does not get the…er…’runs’, as you put it.”

“I think I should like to disappear now,” Lythas groaned in humiliation.

* * *

 

Vurkanan stared up at the ceiling with a look of acute concentration on his face.  Lyre climbed into bed with him and stared down at him in puzzlement.  “What’s troubling you, angel?”

The pale eyes shifted to look at him, and the delicate mouth pulled into a taut line.  “He isn’t going to be able to let it go, Lyre.”

“Who…Nicolas?”

Vurkanan nodded.  “Yes.  I can feel his rising anxiety.  He is planning something.  I just know it.”

Lyre brushed a few wayward strands of silver hair from his lover’s forehead.  If it was troubling Vurkanan this badly, it must be serious.  He trusted his enigmatic intuition.  He didn’t understand it, but he respected it.  “Do you think he will move tonight?” he asked softly.

Vurkanan shook his head and closed his eyes wearily.  “No…he’s too weary to do anything so soon.  I think that he is sobering up, however.  Call it a hunch, but I believe our knightly friend is going to give himself a day or two to recover from his drinking binge and get rested.  I think we should tell Morgan and Aurora, but probably should not tell Tsabrak and Lythallendar.”

“Why not Father and Tsabrak?” Lyre questioned.  He felt that if anyone would know what to do, it would be the two of them.

“Because, they’ve got a lot on their mind right now, with planning their future and all.  We’ve just gotten back from a traumatic journey, and I think it would be better if we didn’t unduly worry them.  Especially Lythas.  Most miscarriages happen in the first stages of pregnancy, and I’d hate myself if we put him at risk by making him anxious.”

Lyre drew a deep breath and nodded in agreement.  It was strange, how Vurkanan could go from such a carefree, reckless individual to a sober and thoughtful one.  Lyre wondered if he would ever fully unravel the mystery that was his lover.  “So, we keep an eye on him…the four of us.  We don’t tell Father and Tsabrak, or Charlotte and Jahlad, for that matter.  What do we do when he does make his move?”

Vurkanan smiled.  “Your father still has a business to run, does he not?”

“Yes, but how does that hel-“ and then he understood what Vurkanan was getting at.  Lythas often allowed Aurora to make deliveries for him, while Lyre typically helped him at home with the paperwork.  “Oh…I think I see,” he murmured. “Are you suggesting we help Nicolas return to Nandar to get Valamir?”

Vurkanan shrugged.  “I’m not certain what I’m suggesting, just yet.  Humans are still strange to me.  They are possessed of a whirlwind of emotions that is difficult to sort out at times. Judging by what we know of Nick, he’s the sort who will stop at nothing to see his goals met.  I very much doubt that he would bother telling us of his plans, if he does decide to be such a nincompoop.  He would probably rent a boat or book passage as close to Nandar as he could and go alone.  If he does decide to try and do this, he might stand a better chance with us to watch his back, don’t you think?”

Lyre smiled.  “Yes, I agree.  I’ll draw up a false order for weapons tomorrow and wait before I date it.  I’ve got a talent for forging, at least.  I’ll tell Father that we all want to go on the trip to make the delivery…I’ll say that you want to see more of our country.  If Nicolas tries anything, we’ll be there for him…with a ship.”

* * *

 

In the darkness of the room he was staying in, Nicolas Dewinter tossed and turned, unable to escape the nightmares that were haunting him.  He kept seeing images of Valamir standing on the ocean side cliff of Nandar, staring down at the crashing waves with a vague, defeated look in his eyes.  Nick wanted to shout out for him to step back, that it was dangerous to stand so close to the edge with the unpredictable wind sheers, but he didn’t seem to hear him.  Nicolas knew that Valamir was thinking of what it would be like to step off of that cliff and end it all.

The paladin woke with a cry, shivering all over with a cold sweat.  “Just a dream…just a dream,” he gasped like a mantra. 

It wasn’t even the worst of the nightmares he had experienced since sailing away from Nandar.  In one particularly awful one, Valamir was screaming in pain and straining to give birth to his child.  Bakarus watched the process with cruelly detached eyes, and when the baby finally came out, Valamir was bleeding heavily.  Clearly, it was not a normal amount of blood, and the lifebearer was slowly dying from it, but Bakarus merely wrapped his new son in a blanket and left the room, while Valamir pleaded weakly with him to allow him to hold his offspring.  The Head Elder never looked back, leaving his mate to bleed to death on the birthing bed.

Nicolas sat up in bed and rocked back and forth, holding his head in his hands as he tried to gain some semblance of self-control.  It was merely his feelings for the lashran that were causing these dreams…surely they didn’t have any truth to them! 

“Please,” he whispered to any higher being who might lend their ear, “don’t let it happen to him.”

He could no longer bear it.  Hoping that the gods would take matters into their hands and keep Valamir safe was folly.  That was his responsibility.  Nicolas sank back down onto the mattress and laced his fingers behind his head.  He would find a way.  Even if Valamir did not wish to be more than friends with him, Nick could not leave him to live a life he was clearly miserable with.  He would rescue the extraordinary creature he felt so much for…or he would die trying.

* * *

 

-To be continued in “Second Chances”


End file.
